Whipped cream and Rootbeer

Call me spoiled but it’s rare that I find an ice cream shop that makes whipped cream with a whisk.  Aerosol whipped cream is fine and dandy but it’s essentially the parsley of dessert — more there for appearances than for flavor. Hand-whipped cream is almost like mousse, thick and textured enough to smother marmots, a perfect velvety transition from the ice cream as long as you don’t think about the dead marmots too much.

My problem with root beer is that not too long ago somebody informed me that it tastes like tooth paste.  I wish they had not.  I had managed to survive some twenty three years having never made that connection.  Once I was so graciously enlightened, BAM, there it was.  I still like rootbeer but now everytime I indulge in one, there is that brief pause andmoment of recognition before I can enjoy it.


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