The Creamery and the clear

Notwithstanding our having suffered the 1-2 punch of a broken-down car (me) and a stolen purse (Amy), Amy and I endeavored to get out of town a few weekends ago by any means necessary. We rented a car and headed north into central Pennsylvania, ending up in State College -- home of Penn State University. Wandering around campus, we happened upon the Creamery, a university-run shop that sells dairy products made by the school's cow herd via the fine folks at the Department of Food Science. Although tempted by the fresh butter and milk, our lack of refrigerator dictated that we needed to consume food on the spot. Accordingly, the ice cream was the only real option (and, in retrospect, would probably have been the only real option, even if we had brought a Playmate Cooler along).

I thought about getting the Paterno Peach (we were, after all, in Nittany Lion country), but we ended up splitting some cookies and cream. This was a perfect ice cream, slightly buttery with a moderate level of sweetness, nothing overblown -- made all the more enjoyable because it was an unexpected find. My friend Caroline introduced me to some fabulous gelato in Philadelphia last week, but I take true pleasure in the unadorned, ideal expression of something so simple and home-grown. No bells and whistles at the Creamery. Well, cowbells are okay.