Bananas for oranges…

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve loved orange-flavored things to eat and smell. Last year, I wrote about an Italian Ice stand in Elizabeth, NJ my father used to take me. An older Italian woman made and sold both lemon and orange Italian Ice. Here is the link to that blog post about Catherine and a photo of her Italian Ice shack.

The Italian ice stand was located in the Italian section of Elizabeth called Peterstown, where both my parents grew up. People stood in line for blocks to get some Italian ice on a hot summer night. I always picked orange, and my dad always picked lemon.

I loved that there were pits in the ice which collected at the bottom of the white paper cup, which I spit one by one seeing how far they would go. My mother would have never allowed this kind of behavior; hell, I got slapped and yelled at for blowing bubbles in my chocolate milk whenever we ate at a diner, the only place I drank chocolate milk with a straw.

I still like to blow bubbles in my chocolate milk, and it has never bubbled over. As an adult I can’t understand the big deal; neither of my boys even wanted to blow bubbles in their milk so I never got to “let” them do it.

Last week, at our farmers market in Troy, NY, I sampled a tiny bit of orangecello from a new vendor two spots down from us. I am a big fan of limoncello and used to make it often; in fact, I have a bottle in the bar fridge right now. But the orangecello? Holy moly, it was like having that Italian ice again, but even better because it has booze in it!

I didn’t even ask how much it was and bought a bottle. I, the frugal cook and shopper, was ready to pay whatever the cost. It was a little high, but this is strictly for sipping straight up and respecting the liquor.

Here is the weird part, to me anyway, the Italian ice stand in Elizabeth was owned and operated by the Di Cosmo family. The orangecello is made by a chef from Villa di Como in Italy along with a variety of sauces and oils.

Yesterday, we were on the road making deliveries, our first stop was in Clifton Park, NY. We went to 518 Donuts, a shop that sells gluten-free fried chicken and gluten-free donuts. The business owners have so much passion and are super friendly.

They have committed to the seriousness and safety making sure there is no cross-contamination occurring between their regular high-end donuts and the gluten-free ones. High-end, meaning store made with kick-ass toppings and flavors. If I could have had a regular donut I would have had a hard time choosing between the maple bacon, chocolate-covered strawberry, campfire, Samoas, or french toast.

For gluten-free local readers, all the fried chicken is boneless and gluten-free so there isn’t any confusion about what goes into the fryer. The chicken is prepared Korean style meaning they fry it twice. It’s crunchy af and not greasy.

They also have chicken fried dough with this amazing dipping sauce which is off the fucking hook. Their potato crisps and hashbrowns are also gluten-free. It’s worth the trip over to Clifton Park, just be prepared it’s a little pricey but worth every penny! They are in the midst of opening a second location in Troy, NY, how psyched are we?

Marty had a gluten-free breakfast sandwich, and he said it was the best one he has had for years since we have been gluten-free. I chose a creamsicle donut; more orange! It tasted exactly like a creamsicle and as good as any regular donut. It was pure decadence. Yum! Whenever I went to an ice cream truck as a kid, I always chose creamsicle popsicles.

The last tale of the orange happened just a little later on. We stopped at Crossgates mall looking for some sandals for me. We were both thirsty so Marty suggested getting an Orange Julius. Orange Julius is one of our favorite drinks dating way back to the 80s at a mall in NJ.

If you aren’t familiar with Orange Julius it’s a juice and smoothie shop. I didn’t remember them having so many different smoothies, but then again I never look at the menu because I know exactly what I am ordering.

With my Jersey accent, I say “are-ange” not “or-ange” which I argue about with Sam often when he corrects me. Shut up kid, I say it correctly because of this joke I learned when I was around 6 years old. This is how it goes:

Knock knock. Who’s there? Apple. Apple who?
Knock knock. Who’s there? Apple. Apple who?
Knock knock. Who’s there? Orange. Orange who?
“Are-ange” you glad I didn’t say apple? 😜

Happy Friday! Enjoy your holiday weekend! We are off to the farmer’s market tomorrow. We are making different kinds of grilled pizzas with drinks and a campfire with our neighbors on Sunday night. Hopefully, we can take off on Monday. We have the shortest but cutest Memorial Day parade here in Arlington that we look forward to every year.

I just pulled some Cheddar, Chive, and Maple Bacon Scones out of the oven for breakfast tomorrow morning. I may have to try one of the little ones just to make sure they are tasty. BTW…they are! Here is the recipe link I used. As a side note, I add maple syrup to the heavy cream that is painted on the scones before they go into the oven.

*** This is a gluten-free recipe.