The man, the myth, the legend, Jack Jack is my grown up ice cream spirit guide. I looked up to him as a kid- like seriously had to crane my neck to look at him because I remember being so small and Jack always being so tall at 6’2″. He’d come to visit and sweep me up in one of those heart filling, bone cracking, big bear hugs and then would flip me upside down so that I could walk on the ceiling. My dad recalls that Jack doesn’t have a vice in the traditional sense, but he LOVES ice cream. Being a Morris dancer and Contra dancer in his younger years, Jack was spry and burning calories at an extraordinary rate, which meant he could eat ice cream whenever he wanted to and would barely gain a pound. My parents met Jack while working at Typotech when they were living in Somerville, MA in the early 1980s. The three became fast friends and discovered that they lived just a few houses down from each other. They would walk to work together and on their way home, they’d stop for ice cream at the original Steve’s Ice Cream located next to the original Bertucci’s on the original Elm Street in Somerville. So much OG on one street!

At the time, Steve’s Ice Cream was the new hot spot to get gourmet, small batch ice cream. Per Dad’s recollection, they didn’t have a ton of flavors, but they were always experimenting and had some crazy stuff like banana-fee (banana coffee). Known for their signature “smoosh-ins” you could pick any base flavor and customize it by having them smoosh the toppings into the ice cream on a marble slab. Another of their favorite spots to go was Toscanini’s in Cambridge, close to MIT. They are still known for their super unique, exquisite flavors. Dad remembers trying their beer ice cream and enjoying their black raspberry chock full of actual fruit blended in with the cream and sugar. Legend has it that after enjoying a portion of ice cream at Steve’s, Jack would order a pint to go and proceed to eat it on his way home. Not 1 but 2 ice creams?! In one day?!? My little kid brain could barely wrap my head around it. Luckily this myth came true: being an adult means you DO get to eat ice cream whenever the eff you want. #adulting

We stayed in touch with Jack over the years and with every visit, there was ice cream at some point in the day. I remember visiting him at his house and it being time for dessert, so naturally the ice cream was pulled out of the freezer. And then I was handed an ice cream bowl. A specific bowl that Jack had set aside strictly for eating ice cream. (Kid brain explodes again). On the side of the bowl in French it read: “Mon bol est vide et je suis très triste” or “My bowl is empty and I am very sad”.

I’m looking forward to visiting Jack this summer down in his neck of the woods for an ice cream date. He’s promised to take me to his favorite spot that has THE BEST chocolate ice cream! Stay tuned…