I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream... unless it’s rum and raisin flavoured.
It was reported this week the nostalgic (some might say, old-fashioned) flavour is disappearing from New Zealand supermarket freezers in favour of flashier combinations.
Foodstuffs told the Herald, “flavours come and go as new favourites emerge”. Woolworths said it had replaced rum and raisin with something called “chocolate cookies”.
And yet a poll of Herald readers showed 65% of you think rum and raisin should be back in the deep freeze.
The news got us thinking. If it’s not rum and raisin, then what is the best ice cream flavour?
The Herald Lifestyle team have some ideas...
This bright green bubble gum-flavoured ice cream has stuck with me through all phases of my life – the innocent childhood years, the rebellious teen stage, and even a brief emo phase. Whenever I’ve tried to deny its allure and hop on the latest ice cream trend, I’m lured back to those goody goody gum drops and the joy that still comes from finding a red or purple one among the green mush. It’s interactive, delicious, and undeniably timeless. – Jenni Mortimer
My vote is for Jelly Tip ice cream – from the tub, not the individual ice creams on a stick. To me, it’s the ultimate Kiwi ice cream flavour, a nostalgic treat that offers a bit of everything: you’ve got your classic vanilla base, lush swirls of tangy raspberry jelly and delicate chocolate flakes. When the ice cream itself is this good, who needs toppings? It’s also the perfect accompaniment to a self-saucing chocolate pudding or a gooey brownie in winter, or a waffle cone in summer. – Bethany Reitsma
When it comes to desserts, I embrace child-like glee. Neon sour lollies, Bruce Bogtrotter-ing chocolate cakes, towering bingsu (빙수) – my sweet servings often play with scale and celebrate artificiality. My favourite scoop is no different. Fairy Bread ice cream, swirled with vibrant hundreds and thousands and brioche, transports me to the birthday parties of my childhood. I can feel the margarine smeared across my face and feel the crunch of a rainbow between my teeth. Minimalists might roll their eyes, but elegance is overrated when it comes to an ice cream cone. – Madeleine Crutchley
So here’s the thing. I don’t love ice cream – too cold, too melty, too milky. But when the mood really strikes there’s only one option for me: mint choc chip. In particular, a fancy take on it, where the ice cream is vanilla, the chocolate comes in the form of a fudge sauce swirl and the chips are actually big old chunks of (spoiler alert) sweet, spicy peppermint slice. If you know, you know. – Bridget Jones
My sweet tooth is underdeveloped – I’m the person most likely to opt for a cheeseboard after dinner rather than a sugary dessert; a bag of chips rather than a chocolate bar. But ice cream in a cone is a sweet treat I’ll make an exception for, as long as there’s some savoury balance to the flavour. I’ve tried mushroom ice cream in Portugal and a tahini and halva soft-serve in NY – both were perfect for my palate. Until those flavours make it to NZ, salted caramel ticks all the boxes for me. It also has the added appeal of, to me at least, feeling a bit classier than the other options on offer. – Stephanie Holmes
I spent my teenage summers scooping ice cream from giant cardboard boxes at Punakaiki’s Pancake Tearooms. The boy I had a crush on was maple walnut. Tourist bus drivers were, invariably, vanilla. Every American had to be told hokey pokey was a vastly superior honeycomb. I judged people by the flavours they chose, especially if it was chocolate, which was always rock hard and tricky to scoop. Perhaps that’s why, as an adult, my tastes lean soft and creamy – ice creams that puddle into lush, milky caramel if you don’t eat them fast enough. Current favourite: Speculoos from Little ’Lato. – Kim Knight
Don’t come for me. Anyone who has had a proper vanilla ice cream knows it’s tough to beat. You’re not wrong if you think it’s boring and tastes like milk – you just haven’t had the right kind. I’m talking about that really fancy kind. The kind where you can see, feel and taste the flesh of vanilla pods in each lick. The kind that melts down your throat and makes you remember. The only caveat is that, like most food, brand does matter. Not all vanilla is equal. Scavenge wisely. – Varsha Anjali