I was just enjoying my lunch--jalapeno peppers filled with cream cheese, preserved in a bath of olive oil--thinking of the vagaries and interconnectedness of life. My husband has brought home this particular delicacy in the past, and I've never really had much of a liking for it. Until about two weeks ago, when suddenly, I couldn't get enough of it. Now, I jealously hoard my jalapenos, saving them for a time when I can eat them in peace, without risk of having to share. Just now, I enjoyed three crunchy, cream cheese-filled peppers, delicately dipping a corner of flatbread into the jalapeno-flavored oil, feeling all would be well in the word if only I had a helping of Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream.
I’ve had to give up a lot of my American culture when I came to Germany. One of the simple pleasures that got left behind was the delight Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. German ice cream, by American standards, leaves a lot to be desired. It is less creamy than it is frothy. When it melts, it doesn’t leak and leave a big liquid mess. Rather, it largely maintains its form, softening into an air-filled lump of flavored fluff. I don’t like German ice cream.
This weekend, my husband surprised me with a pint (which equals about 500 ml to everyone outside the US) of my favorite ice cream of all time. How did he know I love cookie dough ice cream? It doesn’t exist in Germany. And it’s hardly something I would pine over and mumble about in my sleep.
The bigger question was, how did he manage to find some?
From somewhere in the deep dark archives of my memory, I pulled up a faded tidbit I’d probably read in the international version of USA Today that B&J had been bought by an international food distributor. I recognized the name of the distributor, and remembered feeling somewhat dismayed by the news. I’d sincerely hoped that Ben and Jerry’s wouldn’t lose the unique quality of their product. But I didn’t dare entertain the notion that the yummy ice cream would ever reach my dusty corner of the world.
We’ve never seen Ben and Jerry’s in the big grocery stores here or in Stuttgart, so where did it come from? Certainly not out of thin air. I’ve begged my husband to tell me where he found it, but he’s keeping mum. It’s his special secret, a little treasure he’ll surprise me with now and again. I suspect he gets it from the gas station next to the grocery store where we shop. What an odd place to discover this wonderful ice cream. Not a grocery store in a big city, but a gas station in a tiny little rural town!
I wonder how long I’ll have to wait before other favorite products appear in German stores? And where will I find them? The post office? The car dealer? It’s part of what makes life interesting, I suppose. In the meantime, I’ll keep an eye out for Aussie hair care products at the local farmer’s market. Boy, I could sure use some hairspray that works.
