I’ve eaten ice-cream atop freshly baked cones, I’ve spooned it straight from the carton, and on one particularly gluttonous occasion in Disney World, I ate it from a beach pail using miniature sand-shovel – not one of my most glamorous moments.
Throughout my experience of very thorough ice-cream consumption, I’ve never seen ice cream served on bread – not until Singapore. I’ve had an ice-cream sandwich – yes, of course, but usually on a thin, cookie-like wafer – not a slab of ice cream cut from a large block and placed on regular slice of white bread, which is then folded over for your holding convenience. That is an entirely different level of simple, drip-free genius.
All of the ice cream vendors here offer the option of a cone, or a soft piece of bread, sometimes swirled with pink and green and flavored vaguely of pandan. This simple and wondrously drip-free method is the best thing since, well, sliced bread.
There are many elements of the Bread Method to enjoy – Not only does one get to enjoy using the words, “slab,” and “ice-cream” in the same sentence, but when you can see the equator across the street, the extra absorbing qualities of the bread makes eating the chilled treat much more manageable. Dripage becomes a nearly obsolete problem of yesteryear. The bread also becomes a treat in itself, taking on another life form as it soaks in the sweet, melted cream. It’s like sopping-up your leftover pasta sauce with a dinner roll, but without lifting a finger.
Being an Ohio girl at heart, my favorite flavor has become sweet corn, although the coconut is mighty delicious. I ask for my flavor, watch as my slab is cut from the mother-brick of ice cream, and savor it as I walk through town, confident that each drip will reach my mouth.