Not only was I leaving the side hustle where I’d spent all morning to trek all the way uptown to my real job, but the weather was of the miserable variety best enjoyed in bed—dreary, chilly, raining—when I passed the colorful window of Big Gay Ice Cream‘s West Village shop.
C’mon, you know how this ends. There was no way I wasn’t going in.
It’s eggnog season, kids!
And dammit, I was SO happy I did, because in addition to their usual assortment of awesome, their flavor of the day was… drumroll please… EGGNOG. (I did cartwheels and celebratory dances in my head.)
I love the stuff, regardless of how fattening or sugary it is, and can’t get enough of it during the holiday season (which thank God we are fully in right now.) Big Gay’s was almost mousse-like in it’s fluffy, light texture while simultaneously having the thick, creamy sweetness of a good, classic eggnog.
Even though my new shoes got wet, my hair frizzed, and the rain backed up all the trains and made me late to work, I wasn’t too concerned, not with one of my favorite holiday treats in soft serve form in hand.
It’s not often that I wish I was in Florida. Usually I’m perfectly happy being far from it. But yesterday, on my lunch break at work, as soon as I walked out into the blaring sunshine and high temperatures of what felt like a preview of another New York summer, I found myself wishing I was in Florida. In Key West to be exact. In a hammock in the shade, somewhere near the water, with a fat wedge of key lime pie to be even more exact.
Big Gay Ice Cream’s Mermaid Sundae. Hellooooo, summer.
I love Key West and its laid back, mellow vibe, hippy residents, and kitschy charm, but more than anything else about it, I love the city’s most famous desert, my favorite Florida treat, key lime pie. Since boarding a plane to the Sunshine State wasn’t an option, I got my fix at Big Gay Ice Cream in the West Village instead, where I ordered the Mermaid Sundae.
A heaping cup of creamy vanilla soft serve, thick swirls of bright yellow key lime curd, crushed graham crackers, and velvety swirls of fluffy whipped cream were exactly what I needed to take the edge off a hot afternoon. Sure, there was no hammock, no ocean, and certainly no laid back vacation mode, but that perfect combination of sweet, tangy, and tart flavors, and the creamy, smooth and crumbly crust textures of Big Gay Ice Cream’s salute to the key lime pie was all I really needed. Everything else I just closed my eyes and imagined was there.
This has been the summer of ice cream for me. As a friend recently pointed out (in an observational way, not a judgmental one, in case you were wondering) I’ve been eating lots of it.
The Salty Pimp from the Big Gay Ice Cream truck
Maybe it’s because my boyfriend’s been flaneuring around Europe without me (flaneur, for the record, is a noun, not a verb, but I use it as both. My blog, my rules.) and I’ve been emotionally eating in his absence. Or maybe it’s because what the hell else should I do during a beachless, vacationless summer in the city? Ice cream is IT.
Yesterday I even waited in line for it. A pretty long line too, about 35 minutes total, spent between a pack of NYU freshmen and a couple of whiny women straight from a midtown office. So why would I deal with that when there are somewhere around 5 billion other places to get ice cream in this city?
Cause it was from the Big Gay Ice Cream Truck! I’ve been tracking the truck (which constantly changes location) for a few weeks now, missing it because of conflicting work schedules, being out of town (the truck, not me) and friends who didn’t want to wait in line for ice cream. But everything fell into place yesterday and I was able to get my ice cream, in all its delicious, big, gay glory! Continue reading