Things on Sticks

Earlier in the week, I had a Haagen Dazs stick bar - simply because I was at Wimbledon and they have some kind of exclusive supplier deal. I don't generally get the point of choc ices on sticks which come in plastic wrappers inside cardboard boxes. The box is too clearly there to persuade me to pay more than the contents are actually worth. In this case, the contents - a cookies and cream thing - were actually not too bad; and if I am at Wimbledon I expect to pay through the nose anyway. Clearly, if Haagen Dazs hadn't completely inexplicably failed to realise that the short-term feature flavour, midnight cookies and cream, was actually a much better experience all round, it could have been even better, but it still wasn't bad.

However, something about the bits which they had stuck in the chocolate coating meant that it somehow ended up tasting more like a biscuit than either a chocolate or an ice cream. And I have now had several Magnums, and the excessive ice cream to chocolate ratio is becoming increasingly irksome. So my favourite chocolate thing on a stick is officially the Thorntons Chocolate Trio - where even the white chocolate ice cream tastes dreamy and chocolatey. Sadly, they are about as easy to find in this part of London as a snow leopard, or a post office, or somewhere that makes a decent pizza...

Signs of Summer

I had my first Mint Magnum of the summer today. I don't actually like 'normal' Magnums very much, as the ice cream is too creamy and there is too much of it - but the mint ones are much better. They taste of mint rather than cream, although they would be better a bit smaller, too - either that, or with more chocolate and less middle.

The other signs of summer wandering round the streets today were less appealing. Admittedly, I'm no oil painting, but why do perfectly sane, attractive people suddenly completely lose it the moment the sun comes out? I saw two very attractive women with pinko-orange legs and white arms; and at least half a dozen who seemed to be wearing things out of a dressing up box - gold sandals which were a size or two too big, or a beaded kaftan the colour of one of Margaret Thatcher's old suits. And there was one very pretty girl wearing very tight jeans which showed just how completely bandy-legged she is.

I gather Summer is meant to end on Tuesday, anyway. It's a shame, because I've actually done reasonably well on the chocolate front over the past couple of days, but I'm sure the rain clouds will bring a relapse. And at least it will mean I don't have to figure out how to make my chunky, neon-white legs fit to face the world...