Cherry Garcia

I was first introduced to Cherry Garcia on the Boston Commons in 1988 during a summer celebration. Given a T-shirt with a Ben & Jerry’s logo and cup of Cherry Garcia while listening to music and watching throngs of Bostonian vacationers enjoying the summer afternoon, I quickly became addicted to the chocolate-cherry ice cream combination.

Now, when the little Devil on my shoulder whispers “you need an ice cream fix” I head for the nearest place that stocks the downfall of my diet. Unfortunately, I have found that place in Desert Hot Springs within a very short drive or a reasonably short walk of my home. If I walk I will burn the calories contained in the Cherry Garcia, right? Wrong. So I drive there whenever the urge overtakes me.

Not wanting to tempt my spouse, I hide my purchase behind the meat in the freezer to be opened in seclusion when lights are dim and I am alone with my friend, Cherry Garcia.

I have a unique system for extending the life of my hidden purchase. I lightly scrape a small teaspoon around the edges of the ice cream container, always working in a circle, ultimately creating a roundness of the contents. With this method, I can make a pint of Cherry Garcia last three days. And of course, this method burns as many calories as the container has, right? If only.

Hiding the secret cache isn’t always that easy. To be safe, I keep an unopened Cherry Garcia close at hand. Should I be nabbed in the act, I can produce a spoon, the container and plausible alibi: “Wasn’t sure you would want to break your diet, Honey,” I would say.

Of course should I not be discovered, I have another three day supply. Oh that Cherry Garcia, downfall of the weak, nectar of the Gods of ice cream.

Excuse me while I hop in the car and head to my local purveyor of Cherry Garcia. I think I need a fix.

Bill Effinger

(C) 2005