Enjoy while it lasts

What’s the most iconic summer food?

Ice cream. Ice cream is THE definitive food of summer. That’s it, there’s my answer. End of questions.

But genuinely, in all seriousness, what else comes close to representing the season more than a brain freeze inducing frozen dessert, that can come in a hundred different flavours, topped with a multitude of coloured sauces, chocolate flakes and about a thousand rainbow sprinkles?

What’s more, it’s literally a ticking time bomb at the top of a sugar cone! A food you have to eat fast and with little grace as it melts and dribbles down all over your fingers and onto the floor, making a sticky mess on your shoes if you’re real unlucky.

Just like our hottest season, ice cream brings with it some small momentary delight, but alas, is always gone far faster than you’d like it to be. As the summer school holidays would seem to disappear in the blink of an eye, an ice cream in the hands of a toddler would vanish just as fast. I mean, if they’re lucky it might just survive a few mouthfuls, before inevitably being dropped face down into the sand in an inedible mess.

Plus, what’s more, you can tell a LOT about a person from decisions made at the window of an ice cream truck. For example, are they a purist? Do they order a classic 99 every time? They probably reminisce about the day you could get a vanilla cone with flake for actually just 99p.

Do they enjoy a double cone, with multiple flavour ice creams and all the possible trimmings? Or are they a sweet loving, chocolate dipped waffle cone type of person?

Do they have their order ready to go, or do they spend forever debating, going back and forth between options? Or more controversially, do they not order ice cream at all!?

Do they instead choose fruit flavoured ice on a stick, in the form of a rocket? Or, perhaps they're tempted by some mildly flavoured water, poured into a cylindrical tube and frozen in a way that you have to fight with it to get anything released? (Actually, I admittedly quite like those, so excuse the sarcasm in that last sentence.)

On a more personal note though, ice cream reminds me of my childhood. Back in my pre-teen years my grandparents owned a static caravan down by the quaint seaside town of Mablethorpe. We’d visit at every given opportunity. Suffering a horribly long journey in a stuffy car, broken only by frequent stops to ease my brother’s travel sickness. Yet, we’d be safe in the knowledge that there’d be good times waiting for us when we arrived.

As do probably most British families, we had our traditions. Day one for example, would always involve a stroll down the main thoroughfare, visiting every shop along the strip, many of which sported the exact same wares. We’d pick up a bucket and spade, then me and my brother would spend the majority of the morning on the beach digging a hole. “Trying to dig to Australia” my parents would always comment. Of course, by the time we were done it was usually barely waist deep and so we’d take turns jumping the pit instead. An extra daring task if we'd managed to fill it with water!

Next, we’d have a ride on the donkeys. My favourite steed for many years was a black jack named 'Lucky', who seemed often to be put at the front of the drove, walking ever so slightly faster than the others.

Then, we’d finish up our beach visit with a paddle or swim in the sea. Which, no matter how warm the temperature on the day, always seemed several degrees below any level of comfort. We’d emerge shivering, mouths dry and full of the salty taste of seawater, having inhaled several lungful’s trying to jump the crashing waves.

Then, what came next was always the worst part. The awkward beach change from swimwear back to day clothes, followed by the inevitable scratchy, itchiness you carried with you for the rest of the day, having failed to remove sand from all the nooks and crannies you don’t really understand how it got into in the first place!

This discomfort would then be multiplied by my grandparents insistence we reapply our washed off sun cream. We’d be covered head to toe in the sticky white liquid, which would never get properly rubbed in and so we’d spend the remainder of the day looking like a couple of Tim Burton’s ghosts.

Thankfully, this trauma was generally eased somewhat, by a stop for lunch, where we’d share a traditionally enormous portion of fish and chips. Followed by, you guessed it, an ice cream!

Only on holiday can you stop for ice cream every day of the week and it not be a problem. Of course, we’d find out on day one who sold the best, then would frequent that same stand so often, that by the end of the week they’d know our order before we did.

Finally, we'd finish the day at the amusements. Riding in a woven sack down the helter skelter, trying not to get friction burns at the bottom. Before lastly spending more time and money then we'd probably like to admit, desperately trying win plastic keyrings on the two penny slot machines. I'd return to the caravan, hands black from holding coppers, sand in my hair, sun cream in my tired eyes, ice cream stains on my shoes (yes I was always the unlucky one), yet still happy and contented.

And there you have it, this perfect day would be repeated over and over during the course of our stay.

Now, none of this is it say you can only have ice cream by the beach in the summer. It's true that, under those circumstances, I personally believe you will find the most fulfilment. But, us Brits enjoy it all year round. On the side of a hot pudding, served as a sundae in an extravagantly narrow glass, on the top of sweet waffles, as a float in your hipster coffee, heck with a spoon straight from the tub!

However, whenever, or wherever you choose to have it. Like our short and sweet summer months, the most important thing about ice cream, is this – just appreciate the happiness it brings and enjoy it while it lasts!