Gum Arabic

A few years ago in college, the ice cream maker of the wonderful Jannetta's ice cream in St. Andrews, Scotland, came to give a talk to the university's wine and cheese club. I stood up, and asked a question about the gooey, oozy, ice cream I used to eat in Syria, which we called booza. Since I loved it, I proudly asked the man how they did it, expecting to hear some kind of exotic, interesting ingredient.

He wrinkled his nose, and told me that it was gum arabic, and that its job was to be a filler and to keep ice cream from melting as quickly. Since then, I've been quick to pick it out.

So as soon as we got our "artisan gelato" at 668 , I knew what was up. It oozed like a Twix in the commercials, or like Bubble Yum pulled by a kid out of his mouths. The dull, un-fresh flavors were no more promising, and for $4 a scoop, we were really disappointed. We left yearning for Ben & Jerry's (which leads me into another topic, which is the technical superiority of industrial food over most food, which I'll get to), and wondering why no one else is doing something better in a town that is almost exclusively a sea-side resort. Puzzled, we stumbled on to dinner, unsatisfied.