We All Scream!

Ever since I signed up for Working Assets long distance back in December, I have been picking up my free pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream dutifully each month. My favorite flavor is Coffee Heath Bar Crunch. It’s so tasty, I’ve been loath to branch out and try other flavors. Yesterday, I was forced to. There was not a single solitary pint of Coffee Heath Bar Crunch in my grocer's freezer case. I even rummaged about among the Chunky Monkey and Chubby Hubby to see if, perhaps, I could find an errant Coffee Heath Bar. No dice.

In fact, the Ben and Jerry’s selection had been pillaged by yuppies and hipsters, so I had no choice but to select a pint of Dave Matthews Band One Sweet Whirled, consisting of caramel and coffee ice creams with marshmallow and caramel swirls and coffee flavored fudge chips. A tad cluttered, but it was the best thing going.

Here’s the thing, though. I’ve frequently scoffed at this ice cream simply because of its connection (whatever it may be) with the Dave Matthews Band. I despise the Dave Matthews Band, although I admit that the reasons for my despisement (is that a word?) may be somewhat flimsy: One day I was listening to the radio, and I heard what I instantly deemed to be the worst song ever to come into existence. It was trite, derivative, pandering, commercial, overproduced—you get the idea. “What is this POS?” I wondered. Turned out it was a Dave Matthews tune. Gack!!!

My apologies to any Dave Matthews fans, but that was my gut reaction, and I'm sticking with it. I’ve been avoiding ice cream named after him and his band ever since. Plus, there's more. The Dave Matthews Band saw fit to jettison the contents of their tour bus’s toilet as they crossed a bridge in Chicago, thus giving an entire ferryboat of people below a very unwelcome shower of blue shit. And then Dave Matthews, Inc. got all snarly about paying the fine for spraying the people with band sewage. How ungracious. So that’s why I scorn the Dave Matthews Band.

But guess what? One Sweet Whirled is quite edible, as it turns out. I have to say that the rather potent coffee quotient probably has a lot to do with it—and, really, I could do without the marshmallow swirl (I’m guessing that was Dave Matthews’ idea), but if I should ever again be faced with a Coffee Heath Bar Crunch shortage, I might, quite possibly, get another pint of One Sweet Whirled.

One last thing. As much as I like Coffee Heath Bar Crunch, it cannot hold a candle to the best B&J flavor ever—White Russian. No chunks, hunks, or lumps—just pure, smooth, creamy coffee-liqueur flavor. It was the best! I miss it so much. RIP White Russian (1981-2002). You gave us 21 good years.