Scoop Dreams: The Case for Cones

I once stood in line outside a Handel's during a thunderstorm just to get an ice cream cone. I had ended a romantic relationship and was sure the only cure for my broken heart was two scoops of Graham Central Station — a graham-flavored ice cream with chocolate-covered graham crackers and a graham cracker ripple — cradled by a waffle cone. A lot of people might forego the inevitable melting cream and the subsequent possibility of sticky fingers for the safe space of spoons and bowls. But for me, eating ice cream from a cone takes a certain kind of finesse. It's not just a question of balance (although I admit it takes substantial skill to keep two or more lopsided scoops from falling over). It's just a matter of taste. I'm the kind of guy who keeps emergency pints of Ben and Jerry's in his freezer at all times — you know, for those long, hard days where you're scraping to get by. But there's nothing more satisfying than working your way down that wide-necked opening of a waffle cone, breaking off pieces in your mouth along the way toward that perfect bottom-of-the-cone, built-in reservoir where the last little bit of crunch captures a pool of ooey-gooey goodness.