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It used to be all about vanilla until one night it wasn’t. I was five and had fallen asleep in the car during a long ride. I woke up to a velvet, starlit sky in the parking lot of our local ice cream shop with my dad confirming my usual order: soft serve vanilla in a cup.
Perhaps my love for chocolate was written in the stars while I snoozed because in the blink of an eye, my taste buds shifted their loyalty over to the dark side. Upon waking I had deserted soft serve vanilla and only had eyes for a chocolate brown bonnet. I’d noticed my older sister savoring this decidedly un-vanilla treat with gusto on more than one occasion and assumed it was reserved for those with palates more sophisticated than mine.
Naturally, I was intrigued...