Despite the fact I have parents who eat ice cream almost every day (if they could have it at every meal, they would), until recently I thought I could live happily without ever lifting a dessert spoon again.

I know what you’re thinking. Quelle horreur! C’est impossible! I tell you it’s true. When I gave up my 2-liter a day Coca-Cola habit  in college in an effort to regain a good night's sleep (caffeine is not my friend), I found, after a few months, I no longer craved sugar. As my tastes matured, I discovered the savory complexity of wine and eating dessert no longer interested me. Since ice cream was never one of my favorites, I didn’t miss it.

I’m quite sure it’s in the genes. I know I got the ice cream-loving gene from my dad who got the gene from his mom. It’s that gene that forces me to direct my husband miles out of our way just to visit an ice cream store that makes their own ice cream. That same gene has been known to cause cravings that send me to bed with a spoon and a pint of my favorite frozen cream. I can eat ice cream morning, noon and night and never get enough. I can’t help it – it’s in my genes.

Fortunately for me, my sons each have the gene. Those with this specific ice cream gene like to hang out with others who have the gene. Both sons chose ice cream-loving wives. So far, it seems each grandchild has been gifted with the gene. Oh, I am lucky to have so many who are always ready to share a cold dreamy treat. Did I say share? I didn’t mean it. My friends and family all know that I’ll share just about anything – except ice cream.

It was a Pavlovian response.  Not just the salivating and the excitement, but the begging my mother for coins, the heart- pounding fear I’d miss it, then the shrieking, running out to the street to see the white truck with the painting of the ice cream bar on the side cruising slowly down the hill.

Fat chance I’d miss the Good Humor man—he had a vested interest in not being missed.  He thoroughly enjoyed selling his wares and making kids happy in our stultifyingly hot, humid summer suburbs.  But the happy memory of that children’s song’s tinkle can still make me drool, (much like a fountain’s trickle can still make me tinkle).

When was the last time you ate something that made time stop and took you back to your childhood? Berthillon  in Paris is a dreamy ice cream shop on the Isle St. Louis that will do just that...They make the World’s best hot fudge sundae, period!

There are so many choices of ice cream and sorbets, that are all freshly made in-house. The ice cream case is filled with colors and texture like a Tiffany’s jewelry case without the armed guard. Most well-heeled patrons can hardly decide, pointing, discussing and trying small spoonfuls. Not me.

Just recently my mother asked me to pick up some vanilla ice cream she wanted to serve with a pie she had made. I came home with a gallon of 'Pet' vanilla ice cream. She asked me why, out of all the brands at the grocery store, would I choose 'Pet?' I told her   grocery store ice cream,whether it be Ben and Jerry's, Hagen Daaz or Pet all tasted the same to me and that Pet was the cheapest. 

When I was growing up, my mother would make homemade ice cream in the summer from the local peaches using a hand-cranked ice cream churn. We would take turns "churning" and adding endless amounts of rock salt for what seemed like hours until it was ready. That is what ice cream is supposed to taste like and if you've never had homemade ice cream, do yourself a favor a buy an ice cream churn. They make electric ones now with no hand crank churning required.

I have never mastered the art of making ice cream.  Hard to believe since every cookbook I read tells me how simple it really is. I bought a snazzy red Cuisinart ice cream maker and I even have an extra drum sitting in my freezer so that I have the illusion that I can always whip up a batch of fresh ice cream at the drop of a hat.  

Here’s my stumbling block: I am a multi-tasker.  I can’t help it. I’m not sure if I was one before I became a single mom, but I’m definitely one now. Producing that perfect, delectable treat must be intended for a more single-minded person than myself. If one cooks the custard even a second too long the result is a curdled egg mixture that is definitely never destined to become a delicious, smooth, cold, creamy, delectable anything. 

Apparently we aren't the only one's obsessed with ice cream this month. While meadering around the web we found the "You Scream, I Scream, We All Scream for Frozen Desserts Roundup" on Mike's Table, that called out to all food bloggers to share their best/favorite recipes for ice, cold, creamy treats.

The response is so impressive and inspirational (Vanilla Basil, Roasted Peach, Carmelized Mango, Mint Julep Gelato, Dark Chocolate Kahlua Brownie Crunch), even to those of us who aren't constantly begging for more, that we had to share. After checking out some of the entries, we are now "thisclose" to splurging on an ice cream machine. 

Check it out

Mother Nature couldn’t have planned a better time to blast us with heat and humidity. After all, July is National Ice Cream Month. In 1984, President Ronald Reagan said so. He also claimed the third Sunday of July will always be National Ice Cream Day. Thank you very much, but I don’t need to wait for a specially designated month or day to enjoy ice cream. It’s one of my favorite indulgences — any day. Or, everyday! It doesn’t have to be a hot day to scoop up a big bowl of ice cream, but it is the perfect frozen treat to bring the body temperature down.

I accidentally brought home a one-pint carton of Organic Valley French Vanilla-flavored half-and-half last week. I meant to grab a carton of the plain old stuff — my husband can’t drink coffee without it. He doesn’t like added flavor — just added fat.

So, when life hands me French vanilla half-and-half, I make ice cream. Ice cream with fresh-picked, sun-kissed, sweet strawberries. Lots of creaminess from a generous dose of fat. Don’t count the calories. Just indulge, enjoy and stay cool! There’s still a lot of ice cream month left on the calendar :)

Oh, what a great mistake I made!