This is the story of how my day got kind of fantastic.
I stop by Christina’s Ice Cream in Inman Square, renowned for its awesomeness. I stop in and am the only person in the store.
I look at the board of ice cream flavors. There are many.
I hate making decisions.
“How many flavors do you have?” I ask the man behind the counter.
He shrugs, then starts counting the rows and columns. “Almost 40.”
I ask for suggestions, so he says the black raspberry is good. I try a sample, it’s heavy on the butterfat – a tantalizing, all-too-brief raspberry spoonful.
“Have you tried peanut butter?” he suggests, handing me another spoon.
I’m debating what else to try. Last time I was here, the employee was surly and limited me to three tastes, but still wasn’t able to detract from the near-transcendental experience of carrot cake ice cream. (Chewy frozen raisins! Cake bits! Walnuts!)
The flavors all look so exotic. I remember the way the Khulfi, cardamom and pistachio, hit me with an exotic familiarity .
“Can I just try everything and pay you for it? It won’t amount to more than a scoop,” I say.
The man kind of just smiles. “Everything?” he says. “That’s a lot. What do you want to try?”
I try Mexican chocolate. He waits for me to make my next selection.
Two little kids come in and bicker over what flavors and toppings to get. When it’s clear they haven’t made up their minds, I request burnt sugar, which he hands me. This one evokes a kind of audible “Oh!” from me. Then banana cinnamon. Then coconut butterfinger, incredible. This brings more of an, “Oooh.” Then ginger molasses.
I try Adzuki bean. I am mellow now, basking warmly in the avalanche of new flavors.
Finally, I order a boring scoop of mango. It comes out to 2.70, but I only have $2 and a $20. He just takes the $2.
This is the kind of thing that money can never buy.
———
Inman Square is place you have to visit. Take your date here, especially if he/she has never experienced it. And take into account I traversed it in doomed-march-into-Russia temperatures and imagine what a tour would be like if the weather were sunny… I can see myself repeating the experience in clingy wrap dress and espadrilles already.
Inman Square, for the uninitiated, is a really cute, indie little neighborhood that spans no more than a few straight blocks, but packs independently-owned joy into every corner.
This itinerary assumes you have a bottomless stomach. (Me.)
First, stop at Punjabi Dhaba for a chicken tikka masala plate which will come on a metal cafeteria tray and cost you oh, like 7-8 bucks. If you are traveling in packs of small girls, order a combo platter and split it – it’s enough food for 3 people who aspire to go to the gym, but don’t actually, except maybe that one time at the beginning of the semester… wait, that doesn’t count.
But wait, you’re still hungry! Because of said large stomach! If you’re low on cash, skip Punjabi Dhaba altogether and head to Bukowski’s Tavern on a weekday between 12 and 8 to get a black Angus beef burger for $1.69… I shit you not. That’s like, the price of a small, plain black coffee costs at Starbucks. Adding fries costs about a dollar extra.
After being amazed at the economically impossible, do some digesting and shopping at Boutique Fabulous for fabulous things like egg frames that will turn your sunny side ups into hearts, locally made chocolate, opulent vintage chandeliers, and rhinestone clip ons. All of it is unbearably precious and well-curated.
Then stop by Midwest Grill, the Brazilian barbecue place. Not for the food, but for the little girl who knows how to hustle.
You’ll see what I mean.
I walk in the door and ask for a menu, realizing the stupidity of this request as soon as I say it. It’s Brazilian barbecue; they just bring you more and more meat until somewhere, a baby seal cries.
The girl is maybe 11, 12. She’s wearing a pink High School Musical hoodie and immediately insists I see their buffet. She is so insistent that I agree to go with her.
On the 10 steps over there, she glides briefly on her wheel-embedded sneakers. “See,” she declares, a little breathless, “We have beans,” she stirs them, to show me that they are in, fact, beans, “and ribs, and [some Portuguese name] which has bread crumbs and um, kielbasa, and salad, and…”
She introduces me to every last dish in that buffet. They are about 20 of them, and the only she messes up is beets: “I’m not sure what this is, but it’s a fruit.”
As a grand finale, she names the salad oils.
When I tell her I’m not actually hungry but might come back later, she doesn’t give up. “We have desserts for takeout,” she tries.
As I’m leaving, she admonishes, “Make sure to take a candy on the way out!”
Anyway, thank you little girl at Midwest Grill for making my day.
Other things to try in Inman: grab an Oreo (free!) from the big glass jar at All-Star Sandwich Shop. Buy a Brazilian candy (50c) at Muqueca, or just have dinner there, which I hear is fantastic as well.
So yes, go to Inman Square. Wander its shops. Try the Vietmanese coffee at 1369 coffeehouse and ask the employees about the barista-competitions they’ve entered. They have framed latte art on the walls.
Sometimes in life you luck out, but it can be easier in Inman.
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