Once upon a time, in the snowy city of Quebec, Häagen-Dazs blessed the holiday season with a special, limited edition Bailey’s flavored ice cream. As one who was at the time known to drink said liquor straight from the bottle, Yours Truly welcomed the offering with an enthusiasm that was cut short; too soon, the edition passed and the flavor never reappeared, its memory fading like a cherished dream never to be licked from a spoon again.
Yet, once upon a midnight dreary, out of a ninth train ride in about as many days, Yours Truly lugged luggage under the pouring rain, stomach grumbling from a missed dinner. The corner store beckoned and despite being one who highly prefers a home-cooked meal to uncooked plastic-flavored foodstuff, I walked in. Little did I know that upon that night, that rain, that long trying day, Hamburg would provide much needed comfort in the form of seemingly endless supply of Bailey’s flavored Häagen-Dazs.
That’s it, World, I’m staying right here.