Ben & Jerry

When I was first in Switzerland my flat mate and I discussed what we missed about the States excluding, of course, people we loved. That was a given. It usually came down to food. Things like Dr. Pepper and Oreos became valued like fine jewels.

Now approaching two decades later it still becomes a question of food. I often think of

Dunkin Donuts raisin bagels

Dunkin Donuts blueberry muffins

Stouffer’s welsh rarebit

Among other things. My daughter used to bring the muffins whens he flew from Boston to Geneva despite being teased about fear of hunger by the attendants, and a friend arrived once complete with an assortment of donuts that were gobbled up with joy.

And there was a time when having an email from a friend who talked about eating a blueberry muffin in her library with a cup of tea when an overwhelming wave of homesickness hit. I shared the feeling with one of my team. She went home and had her mother bake me blueberry muffins to make me feel better.

And it just isn’t stateside food. I never arrive at Cornavin without going directly from tracks to the sushi place and then to pick up taillaiul bread for my breakfast the next morning. Filet of perche from Lake Geneva is usually on my menu within 24 hours, and a fondue shortly after. I also think the best paprika potato chips are a Swiss brand.

But then when I return to France, I head for the fresh fruit and veggies. There is something about the Southern French sun that kisses goodness and creates produce where flavour explodes in my mouth.

So imagine my pleasure when doing errands when I saw a café with the sign “Ben et Jerry’s ici” Memories of the Boston ice cream wars came flooding back. Walks after dinner to have khalua cream with oreo mix-ins, or stopping for an ice cream after an evening class at BU.

How long did it take me to buy a cup? As long as it took me to dig out my Euros.