How Dreamy: The Unbelievable Dreamsicle Milkshake

My Cousin's photo

 Over the weekend, I had to go to Miami for an interview. I decided that instead of driving the 10 or 11 hours there and back in one day I would stay the night and enjoy a little bit of South Beach.

After some quick Urbanspoon research into dining options within walking distance of our bed and breakfast (which had an AMAZING breakfast that I will be blogging about later,) we found a cute and quirky little diner that wasn’t too pricey.

The menu was eclectic and fun. It had steaks and burgers, sandwiches and dinner meals that were featured on the Food Network Show, Diners, Drive-ins and Dives. And even though I’m not a fan of Guy Fieri, it was pretty cool to see that on the menu.

It took me forever to decide what to eat, and I ended up going with some fried food monstrosity: chicken tenders, onion rings, jalapeno poppers and mozzarella sticks. But I knew what I wanted to drink right away. Under the milkshake section, which had 20+ flavors of creamy goodness, there was a “hard” milkshake section. It didn’t take long for me to decide on one of the alcoholic dessert concoctions. I went with the Night Rider, a blend of Bacardi 151, Grand Marnier, Oreo cookies and vanilla ice cream. It was fabulous, but the true winner was the milkshake my cousin ordered, the Dreamsicle.

The mixture of vanilla ice cream, orange juice and Cointreau liquor was so good that we had to recreate it at home. And I’m going to be bold and say our version was even better, and it couldn’t have anything to do with the extra liquor we added or anything.

If milkshakes didn’t destroy my stomach, this could easily become my new obsession. The alcoholic, liquid version of an orange creamsicle? Count me in.

Nostalgia: Tic Tac traditionals

Last week, while standing in line at the checkout, surveying the rows of candy and gum, I had a sudden urge to buy Tic Tacs, but I didn’t realize that tossing the small, plastic container of mint green confections onto the conveyor belt would arouse an obsession.

I hadn’t had a Tic Tac in over a decade, and since that day, I’ve gone through six packs of the sweet little mints, even buying a bulk package.

But the point of this story is not my newfound fascination with the tiny pill-shaped sweets, it’s about the frustration I faced trying to find what was always my favorite flavor, spearmint. I couldn’t find the dark green mints anywhere. I found the pale blue-green wintergreen mints. I found white “freshmints.” I found orange. But my beloved spearmints were nowhere to be found. And during my search, which included gas stations, grocery stores and pharmacies, I realized I couldn’t find the cinnamon ones either.

So I dug deeper, and upon further investigation into the mystery, I realized my favorite flavor had been replaced, deemed unfit for sale. In an attempt to make more money, the Ferrero Company decided to nix both the cinnamon and the spearmint flavors to make room for new ideas and seasonal flavors, like Strawberry Fields and Pink Grapefruit. Yuck.

So, I guess I’ve found another item, or two, for my nostalgia collection, which simultaneously made me sad, and got me thinking about the commercial food industry. I wonder how profitable a food item has to be in order to stay on the shelves; because I have seen some unappetizing items stick around for decades, while other, often beloved, products disappear in an instant.  I really can’t fathom how a strawberry mint would outsell a cinnamon or spearmint flavored one.

What do you think? Did Ferrero USA make a mistake when they took the two traditional mint flavors off shelves, or are fancy fruit flavors really more appealing?