I have a confession to make, and it is a serious one...
I accept in all consciousness that I am terribly addicted, yet proud of my gluttonous want for ice creams. I have been asked one too many times and on many occasions of why I have such strong feelings for what is basically frozen milk with scraps of chocolate. To all those who ever asked me that: You, sir, have no taste for the finest things in life.
I had to delve into this though, especially after realising that most of my family had a similar addiction (we need an ice-creamholics anonymous). Turns out that the Nerurkar clan could officially announce that ice cream is our community’s official dessert (couldn’t be the official food ‘cause we Goans love our sol kadi). What if I was, in fact, Willy Wonka’s long-lost cousin?
And then it dawned on me, I have an ice cream for every mood. If I was happy, it was vanilla-chocolate, if I was sad, it had to be a double-chocolate fudge, nothing better than a triple-tiered chocolate sundae if it is a rainy weekend and if it was a celebration, I’d settle for nothing less than a Magnum Almond.
These little traditions have been passed on for generations. Picture an old man from the early 1700s happily licking the end of a Kulfi stick and then a timelapse of several descendants ends with a crack of the tip of a Magnum Almond and zooms out to my happy face. Yes, it has been a very long relationship and will continue to be so.
Pops would always mention about a very luxe ice cream store in Germany that served the creamiest vanilla ice cream dipped in chocolate sticks (basically choco bar, but so much better) and they would let you top it up with an assortment of nuts, chips, sprinkles, crushed candy, and I need an ice cream now. I always wanted to have a good bite of this creamy goodness, but alas, I didn’t have a passport then, and pops wouldn’t let me cross half the world for it anyway. But all wasn’t lost. Kwality Walls came to my rescue (and saved me from stealing a bank). I still remember the first time I had a Magnum Almond.
When Magnum announced its arrival in India, I was ready with a bib around my neck to wolf down as many as I could. A bite of it and I was hooked. Suddenly it felt like the Earth orbited slower than usual, violins played in the background and I melted. Of course, the cost didn’t allow me to binge, but then a good weekly saving and I could get my hands on two more.
Pops would always fetch us Magnums when it was a big celebration, like when he got a new job, or it was Maa’s birthday or if my brother happened to miraculously stay out of trouble for a week. So, when I got my first salary in hand, and I wanted to treat the fam, it had to be a Magnum. Little did I know that Pops had landed a major project in Brazil and he had bought a bunch of them too. Yes, the happiest day of the year.
I don’t think I’ll ever be tired of ice cream, I’m pretty positive I can lick a tub clean in less than 7 minutes. With Magnum, there’s just a whole new reason to celebrate. If there is a Santa Claus (and I know you’re there old man, get your game on), pretty please get the Magnum tubs to India, I’ll forever be grateful.
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