Pink of Perfection

Bogged down on the couch with one of those wicked summer colds, sneezing and shivering under a wool blanket on a 90 degree day, I wanted nothing but a vanilla milkshake. Never in all my days have I craved a milkshake when sick. Apple juice, yes, tom yum soup, definitely, but a milkshake? This was new territory for me.

Luckily in New York you can get everything from toilet paper to organic red zinfandel delivered to your door and you don’t even have to change out of your pajamas. But the local diner had a $10 minimum delivery charge and, without going into details, I just couldn’t stomach a triple decker turkey club. It was time to get off the couch and take matters into my own hands.

Oh, don’t worry. I didn’t stumble farther than the kitchen. For there, in my wee freezer, was a pint of the criminally delicious Ronnybrook vanilla ice cream. And below, in my less wee fridge, was a bottle of Virgil’s root beer. Not the makings for a milkshake, but actually, something I had forgotten I liked even better.

In my house growing up we celebrated Fridays with slumber parties, pepperoni pizza, and brown bottles of IBC root beer. I have very sweet memories of drinking the stuff in the bedroom I shared with my sister, playing games that involved scrawling on a chalkboard and elbowing in on the “big girls.” I felt very adult swigging off a bottle that looked like something my dad would drink on the porch. Later, if it were a really great night, we could pour a stream of the sweet, creamy stuff over scoops of Bluebell ice cream.

It wouldn’t be quite right to say this is a more sophisticated version of my childhood favorite, but the ingredients have certainly improved (although, I remember Bluebell being, in fact, the best ice cream in the country). Of course you needn’t run a temperature or feel nostalgic to make a root beer float. They are so simple and so good you should have them just because, and as often as possible, all summer long.

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