In the last ¾ths of a day, I have discovered a new addiction. I know, I know...whoopee. Addictions come easily to this diminutive scribbler...it might even be listed in the symptom set for OCD.
Mom has been trying to seduce my sweet tooth all summer. It is a shy thing, perhaps having a few antisocial tendencies. Once coaxed into the raw, he is a holy terror. "I want cookie!" "I want peanut butter cup Blizzard!" "I want cheese fudge!" "I want peanut butter M&Ms!" What a little glutton he is. He often causes me to snarl and froth at the mouth until his demands are met; my husband tends to cater to his every need.
So, I have resisted the temptation, wanting not to awaken the demon within. But yesterday, upon seeing a slip of paper, giving it a quadruple-maybe-quintuple take, my defense crumbled. Come noon, Mother and I partook of the benevolent
Culver's, ordering our customary garden salads from the "
All-American" chain known for their Butter Burgers.
I am terrible at estimating dimensions, so we'll say the slip of paper looked to be brochure-sized...rather comely and stick-in-your-pocket worthy. At least that's how it happened for Mom as she filled her glass to the brim with ice, and a squirt or two of diet cola to make it look legit. Mom likes ice...so it is no wonder that this dessert would appeal to her.
They call it Lemon Ice. I know it's older than Dickens, or just as, but I've never had it...sensitive teeth, you know. Ice turns me off faster than a switch, but I know now that I judged too harshly. It is not a cup of lemon-flavored ice as the name would suggest, but 2 scoops of the most delicious icy slush to ever grace my mouth, sweet tooth notwithstanding. Mentally allotting 200 calories to the dish at my mother's attempts at persuasion, I veered from the temptation, denying myself even that first taste. I love lemons. I love scoops.
Unfortunately, the stakes were too great. It would be
McDonald's ice cream cones all over again.
I read the title of the brochure-sized slip of paper quickly before reading on. I was pretty sure what I would find at the bottom of a document titled
Nutritional Information for Culver's Lemon Ice with Splenda. Yes, I knew it had Splenda—to the uninformed, Splenda is a non-nutritive, calorie-free sweetener doesn't contain Phenylalanine, the layman's "aspartame". This is the top dog on the health-nut and diabetic hill alike. Perhaps jaded in my experience, I shrugged it off as propaganda for the current health wave. "Yeah, sure," I thought, bringing my clenched fists to my hips and sticking my chin out stubbornly. "And how many calories in the lemon syrup, huh?"
So, you might imagine my surprise when I saw the itty bitty "47" smiling broadly from the nutritional data pane. It was worthy of the second and third glance. Not only that, but it claims to have six grams of fiber...my favorite nutrient.
Claims. I'm still not convinced that this isn't a typo...where the heck did they squeeze out six fibrous grams!? You can't even get that from a bowl of oatmeal for Pete's sake! I was so hypnotized at what the brochure-sized slip of paper had to say that I stood up and cried passionately, "I'll try a Lemon Ice!"
My mother nodded with an approving smile and concealed her "I-told-you-so"-ness in the car as I gurgled and giggled and enjoyed my refreshing treat. I fantasized about it all day. Even as I ate Brussels sprouts last night, I thought about the lemon ice. And it's amazing how much spaghetti squash tastes like citrus...marinara sauce, too, for that matter. As the evening grew dim, Miles came through and gave me a fix, well before the rabid beast of my insatiated self emerged. Into our third year of marriage, eighth of knowing one another, I think he finally understands how I work.
