November plays its hand and surprisingly calls my wardrobe’s bluff. I stuff my puffy hooded coat back inside it and joyfully dance down 5 floors. I’m grateful for Mother Nature’s dementia today and eager to sport bare legs tucked into fuzzy boots down the street. My sweater dress is exposed for the first time to the autumnal sun that gilds the rooftops and northeast corners of the city I love, the neighborhood that stole my heart- The East Village.
I turn the corner to escape the season’s confusion and indulge myself with a new playmate. My heart races as I rush to my latest crush. He doesn’t know how smitten I am as I attempt some semblance of self-control but happen to pass by his place several times a day. It’s not stalking, it’s infatuation. I compose myself and try not to run the last few steps to his door. I greet my new neighbor Davey. A “man” for me, Davey (more accurately Davey’s Ice Cream) is magical, making homemade ice cream, homemade sorbet, homemade salty caramel sauce and hot fudge, homemade brownies… you get the gist. The adorable young woman standing behind the wooden counter lets me know that everything is made there from SCRATCH. The phrase is apropos considering the chocolate ice cream transports me to moments in which I might run my nails less than lightly down the back of some ecstasy monger.
As this is a nearly religious moment, I should confess to you- this is not my first time at Davey’s. I’ve been here before to try the sweet corn ice cream (gone for the season), pistachio, Mexican vanilla bean, and coffee ice cream. The flavors are clean, pure send-ups of their names. The roasted pistachio offers a sweeter and creamier alternative to an afternoon of prying open shells and the vanilla elicits wonder at why other vanillas are just not as good. A taste of each selection is offered and I would be remiss to deny my taste buds the full gamut of flavors before ordering. Though I’ve never had coffee ice cream so much like a cup of joe as I have tasted here, nothing compares to the chocolate chocolate ice cream- my reason for repeat visits… and possibly living.
I cannot keep myself from fantasizing about a double-scooped brownie sundae topped with salty caramel, whipped cream, peanuts, and the wonted maraschino cherry. My thoughts are out of my mouth before I can stop them and satisfaction struts my way.
As the sun exits the sky and takes the random warmness of the day with it I notice their sign for thick homemade hot chocolate made with 61% extra dark chocolate… Fine, twist my arm, I’ll come back later.