What made me fall in love with America? I’ll tell you. It was the ice cream.
When I was a kid I remember only three ice cream flavours. Please note the letter “u” in the word “flavors.” This indicates to you, the reader, that my childhood was spent in the land of limited ice cream flavor choice: England. The options were Vanilla, Chocolate, and Strawberry. There was however a fourth flavor. It was the one that combined all three varieties in separate layers like an immense, frozen Pousse Cafe. This was called Neapolitan, and if accidentally left out out of the freezer could quickly degenerate into a messy gray slop. Thus creating the least appetizing ice cream (for its time)
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