Ice Cream Sundae

A picture can spark your imagination. An image from the colorful and glossy pages of a magazine sets in motion dreams of travel to new places, much like books. Or maybe transports you to a street in a beautiful city like Paris or Istanbul.

Enchanting streets with flower shops, restaurants, and sidewalk cafes. People sitting at tables covered with crisp white table cloths, colorful drinks, and desserts before them. I came upon these pictures again and again. I imagined myself sitting at one such table ready to order my favorite dessert, an Ice Cream Sundae. That was when I was growing up in Hyderabad.

On vacation in London, I found myself on the street of my imagination. The place looked exactly as I remembered, though it had been years since I browsed those magazines. I was now traveling with my husband and children.

It took me just a few seconds to decide I had to go inside the restaurant. I ordered my very first Ice Cream Sundae, the Classic Sundae. I did not consider any other varieties offered on the menu.

We sat at a table spread with a crisp white tablecloth. The beautiful tulip-shaped footed glass cup arrived. I could see the vanilla ice cream piled up through the glass, capped with whipped cream. The chocolate syrup dripped down over the whipped cream and mingled with the ice cream. Fruit and some crushed nuts with the bright red maraschino cherry on top, served exactly as I imagined years ago.

I found myself on a street right out of my magazine

I don’t remember what my children ordered. I carefully put the long slim spoon into the Classic Sundae and had my first spoonful.

Wait, did I order the right Sundae?

I looked at my husband and children, they seemed quite satisfied with their order. I tried a second spoon, but something was not right. Without saying anything I ate a little more but could not finish it. I didn’t like my ice cream sundae.

I looked around, everything was perfect. The street was exactly how I imagined it. The restaurant, our table with the crisp white tablecloth, and the tulip-shaped cup in front of me were just right. My mood brightened. I wouldn’t let the disappointing taste of the ice cream bother me.

After all, I had enjoyed picturing myself on one of those magazine streets, eating my favorite Ice Cream Sundae in the restaurant, for years.