Dairyland
Today was my pseudo last day at my job (I’m going on vacation for two weeks, then returning for a week and a half before starting a new job), and a cluster of my favorite co-workers, my supervisors and I went out to lunch at the Creisham Valley Cottage in Mt. Airy. We ate in the dining room, it was far too hot and steamy to eat on the patio. Lunch was good, but the plan that my friend Shay and I came up with at the end of the meal for the next meal of the day was even better. Could there possibly be a superior way to celebrate the first Friday in July and the beginning of a holiday weekend than to have ice cream for dinner? I don’t think so.
Even as an adult, there is something forbidden and a little naughty about eating ice cream for dinner. Which just makes it so much fun. Shay lives in East Falls, and about three years ago, introduced me to Dairyland (although she and her roommate Erin call it the Dairy Shack. I’m not sure why) on Ridge. There are two ice cream places within a block of each other along that stretch of Ridge in Roxborough, just up from where Ridge crosses paths with Manayunk’s Main St. We go to Dairyland, I’m not totally why we snub one and frequent the other, but that’s the way it’s always been, and who am I to buck tradition?
I got a Blizzardo (their obvious take-off on a menu item from more famous dairy royalty) with chocolate covered pretzels and peanut M&Ms. Sitting outside on the curb, the recent rain having momentarily cleared out the humidity, cars lined up at the next door brew-through to stock up for the holiday weekend, I couldn’t think of a better place to be.
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I get a similar transgressive thrill from having breakfast-instead-of-dinner. For me, there’s nothing like the pleasure of making french toast in the evening smothered in melted butter….