Ok, so I had the best ice cream in the world this weekend. No, seriously, there is no debate here, people. I have found the holy grail, the Academy Award, the Tom Brady of ice creams.
We were visiting Ally for the weekend for her birthday, and stayed in West Hartford. We’d just eaten lunch and I was stuffed, but Ally said we had to try this new ice cream place called Milkcraft. It was like, 26 degrees, mind you, so ice cream was the last thing on my mind, and also, did I mention I was full to my eyeballs. But she persisted, and we went into this adorably funky shop, where we shared one salted caramel ice cream and watched it get whipped up with liquid nitrogen, in a Kitchenmaid mixer, smokey and foggy and da, da, da, daaaaa–the creamiest stuff that’s ever met my tongue with the perfect flavor of salted caramel, topped with caramel kettle corn. Also, I didn’t even tell you about their waffle cones, which are not the waffle cones you’re thinking of–no, they’re freaking real waffles that are made in front of you on a proper waffle machine. Uh huh. And all the ice cream is all natural and sourced from local farms. It’s ridiculously perfect.
All I’m saying is that this stuff is like an addiction waiting to happen. I am thinking of driving the four hours today so that I can have one. If we ever solve the Opioid crisis, this could take its place. Anyway, Milkcraft. There are none in Boston, but if you’re near one, be careful. Because this is major yum. I’m walking to the car right now…..
*the gratitude-a-thon 