Ice cream can be quite the folly for ones who are lactose intolerant. The last time I had actual ice cream three years ago, I was really sick outside the Mexican restaurant where we ate. Not good.
But it’s summertime, and a girl has to get cool, and is getting sick from all the sorbets. I need something creamy, without actual cream…I have to travel crosstown to the East Village.
After my favorite unnamed old-timey vegan ice cream parlor on Ave. A closed up shop last year, I was adrift…until I discovered Van Leeuwen’s. Nearby 2nd Ave., and a short stone’s throw from Astor Place and St. Mark’s Place, this friendly, neighborhood ice cream parlor is young, lively, sunny, inviting, gay-friendly, family-friendly, and they play really great tunes (playlist featured below).
And, they have 8 different vegan flavors! Huzzah! And…they have the Vegan Sundae:
1 chocolate vegan ice cream scoop (tastes like fudge) :), 1 vegan salted caramel scoop (salty, sweet, tangy and smooth) cacao nibs, walnuts, chocolate syrup and vegan whipped cream, made from coconut milk.
Delish! (It didn’t have a maraschino cherry like the sundaes from Braum’s; that would had been perfect).
No matter! I was happy and enjoying my sweet treat, and suddenly I felt like a teen again, grooving to totally awesome hits from the ’60s-’90s:
1. Jefferson Airplane “Somebody to love”
2. When in Rome “The promise”
3. Eagles “Take it easy”
4. Jefferson Starship (hmm, interesting) “Jane”
5. David Bowie “Let’s dance”
6. Tears for Fears “Everybody wants to rule the world”
7. Counting Crows “Accidentally in love”
and, an unfamiliar tune for me:
8. Car Seat Headrest “Fill in the blank”
(but I thought it was this,
Billy Idol “Dancing with myself”
in the first few chords. Thanks Shazam!)
Those were the days, when lactose intolerance was less potent, when I, as a teenager in the ’80s, could anything that I want. Now, I can only scarf down vegan sundaes only twice a year.
Fortunately, I didn’t need to eat dinner, since the neighboring Italian restaurant San Marzanos was crowded to the gills at dinner time; the next seating at the bar would take one hour. (One day, I will go there to see what the fuss is all about. The homemade pasta did sound tempting…)