THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, July 28, 1996 TAG: 9607260603
SECTION: COMMENTARY PAGE: J3 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: George Tucker
LENGTH: 75 lines
I can't let National Ice Cream Month pass without paying a tribute to my favorite dessert.
Oh yes, I know it is loaded with calories and cholesterol, the bugbears of today's health culture, but so what? Anyone, like myself, who has managed to weather the woes of this naughty old world for 86 years, is entitled to some sort of Sybaritic compensation, no matter what the killjoys have to say. Also, my research into the history of ice cream indicates that my taste has been shared by countless world shakers of the past.
Historically, the saga of what we now enjoy as ice cream began around A.D. 1295, when Marco Polo returned to Italy from the Far East with a recipe closely resembling what is now called sherbet in his baggage. Using this basic formula, inventive cooks began combining it with cream and eggs and these experiments eventually wound up as ice cream. Then its worldwide travels began.
In 1553, when Catherine de Medici became the wife of Henry II of France, she took along the recipe for the frozen delight when she set out from her native Florence for Paris. Later, it hopped the English Channel and became a favorite dessert of Charles I, who relished it so greatly he bribed his French chef to reserve it exclusively for the royal table.
After Charles - never a popular monarch - was beheaded in 1649, the recipe leaked out and soon the dessert that an 18th century cookbook later referred to as ``food fit for the gods'' was generally accessible. Meanwhile, ice cream was made available to the general public for the first time in 1670, when a Sicilian named Francisco Procopio opened the first cafe in Paris.
In 1700, ice cream made its first recorded American debut on the table of Gov. William Bladen of Maryland, at which time a guest recorded that the meal had included ``some fine Ice Cream which, with Strawberries and Milk, eat most Deliciously.'' Later, on May 12, 1777, a New York confectioner named Philip Lenzi placed the first known ice cream advertisement in the New York Gazette, announcing it was available ``almost every day.''
By then, many celebrated Virginians had hopped on the ice cream wagon. George Washington liked it so well he spent around $200 for it during the summer of 1790, when the national capital was still in New York City. Not to be outdone, ingenious Thomas Jefferson dreamed up an elaborate ice cream delicacy resembling what is now known as Baked Alaska. Later, Dolley Madison featured a magnificent strawberry ice cream creation as the piece de resistance for President James Madison's second inaugural banquet at the White House in 1812.
From then on the rest is history, including the following hilarious yarn recorded in ``Ice Cream'' by Jill Neimark (1986):
``One of the very few places where it wasn't so easy to get ice cream was prison. A convict called Lawson D. `Two Quart' Butler found this especially irksome. Lawson got his nickname because he could wolf down two quarts of ice cream in one sitting. `Two Quart' escaped from prison once, and the FBI was after him. Most escaped convicts head for a safe hiding place just as quickly as they can, but not `Two Quart.' He had something important to do first: He wanted some ice cream. A crowd gathered to watch him eat his usual two quarts. He must have eaten fast, because by the time the police got there, `Two Quart' was gone. As the story goes, when he was finally caught, Lawson said he'd be happy to go back to prison, if he could get his two quarts a day.''
Well, after that zinger, my avidity for ice cream is relatively routine. Even so, there is one highlight in my gastronomic pilgrimage that I like to recall.
Bert Thompson's Drug Store in Berkley was equipped with an elaborate soda fountain that was a mecca for anyone with sweet tooth. One afternoon as a post-moving picture treat, my grandmother took me there for a couple of banana splits. Filling her order, the soda jerk carefully sliced two bananas and placed them in two glass dishes. Then he added scoops of vanilla and strawberry ice cream to each serving, topped them off with squirts of whipped cream and chocolate syrup and finally crowned the confections with a generous sprinkling of English walnuts pieces and maraschino cherries.
By then I was drooling, and when he placed the two offerings before Grandma and myself we dug in, but not for long. When Grandma reached the purring state, she paused momentarily, tipped me a wink and said, ``Heaven can wait!'' - to which I blissfully replied, ``Amen!'' by CNB