You have to wait to try it, though, but you are patient. You are patient because you know the wait will be worth it. How could it not?
And then one day you sit down with a big bowl and a spoon, ready to experience in real life the deliciousness which up until now had only been tasted in your imagination.
Only to be so, so disappointed.
I'm talking, of course, about ...

I mean ...

Except that it wasn't. It was just ... okay. The malt balls didn't quite have the snappy, crunchy bite I was hoping for, and while the malt ice cream was good, it wasn't as good as, say, a vanilla malt or mocha malt milkshake from Mitchell's.
Foogoat, when he did get around to tasting it, only said, "It tastes homemade," by which he means, "The texture isn't smooth enough" or possibly, "I knew it would suck."
How he knew it wouldn't be good I'm not sure, but he could have just told me so in the beginning so I could have saved myself from the heightened expectations and subsequent disappointment. Or he could have bought himself a Cleveland Browns jersey with 'MALTED MILK BALL ICE CREAM" on the back. Same thing.
No comments:
Post a Comment