Sweet Dreams
- Food -
By Ruel S. De Vera, Associate Editor
Sunday Inquirer Magazine
AS far as I am concerned, the pinipig crunch is the height of ice cream engineering. It is an amazing balance of the solid chocolate shell, creamy vanilla interior and, the piece de resistance, the crisp rice embedded in the shell. It was all the different sensations you can possibly get, all in one confection. It was a delicate task, eating the pinipig crunch, because you had to keep just enough of the shell intact so the vanilla doesn’t just plop on the floor, and yet it was also a race against time because wait too long and even the chocolate shell would start to melt.
Every grade school field trip to the Magnolia factory along Aurora Boulevard was laced with the promise of ice cream at the very end, usually in those huge gallon plastic containers. I wanted pinipig crunch, of course, which is interesting considering that I don’t usually enjoy ice cream: the cold of the treat tends to give people like me a sore throat. Early on, my pediatrician gave me a choice, ice cream or my tonsils. I chose to keep my tonsils.
