nog in my backyard

So while you were at work on Friday, gazing balefully at the snow out the window or cursing your boss for not letting you go home early, I was eating nog ice cream. Because that’s just how I roll.

Ice cream shops are open through the winter, y’know, including cutesy artisanal micro-chain Blue Marble, where new seasonal flavors include eggnog, chai, and peppermint. I love me some ice cream, so I feel good about supporting the joint through the off-season. I typically snag a cup of fair-trade coffee with organic milk and a bagel, but on Frozen Friday—blame perverse New Englander instincts—I wanted ice cream. Pictured here is a petite globe of sweet, cinnamony chai under a swirl of Blue Marble’s addictive hot fudge sauce, but as we edge closer to the holidays, I crave nog.

My aunt Gere Lou, a lovely, softspoken woman with a fondness for chardonnay, was kind enough to send me nog shot glasses a few years ago. She noticed that when the rest of our cacophonous Thanksgiving party was several bottles of Shiraz to the wind, I would procure a tiny water glass, fill it with nog, apply a dusting of nutmeg, and bolt the whole thing down my craw so I could immediately concoct another potion in the same glass. I would repeat this process three to four times. Gere Lou observed, judging silently. The glasses arrived weeks later.

So nog ice cream—my God, what a beautiful thing! My fix, frozen, as though for all eternity. Blue Marble’s version delivers a solid hit of nutmeg and allspice rounded out by that eggy flavor one either loves or despises, with sweetness from amaretto, organic sugar, and a bit of rum. It’ll be at the shops as long as it lasts (owners estimate mid-January.)

Support the frozen folks while it’s frigid out, ok? They often have cocoa and coffee, too, and no doubt feel as lonesome and neglected as you did at prom while “Stairway to Heaven” was playing and you had to stand there allll alone.

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