The Inside-Out Ice Cream Cone
I told myself the calories dripped out with the ice cream. I stand by this.
My grandson and I solved a problem this summer — one of those small, sweet problems that turns a sticky mess into a memory.
It started at the ice cream shop on a scorching afternoon. He ordered a waffle cone with two scoops, chocolate syrup, and sprinkles — the full production. But the heat had other plans. Before he could make a dent in it, the whole thing was surrendering fast, dripping off the bottom of the cone while he chased it helplessly. I ended up finishing it. (I told myself the calories dripped out with the ice cream. I stand by this.)
On the drive home I started thinking. We always build ice cream cones from the outside in — cone first, then ice cream, then chocolate, then sprinkles. What if we flipped it? Put the chocolate and sprinkles inside the cone, let it harden, and then add the ice cream? The cone becomes the bowl. The chocolate layer seals the bottom. The sprinkles are baked right into the experience, not sliding off the top.
That’s the inside-out ice cream cone. Or the upside-down one. We haven’t settled on a name.
A few days later, my grandson and I made a project of it. We melted semi-sweet chocolate chips with a splash of coconut oil over a little double boiler I fashioned from a glass bowl and a saucepan. He stirred — carefully, supervised, very seriously. We spooned the chocolate into waffle cones, swirled to coat the inside, shook in red, white, and blue sprinkles, and stood them in the freezer to set. When we were done, we had five perfect cones waiting for ice cream.
The payoff: a scoop of good vanilla ice cream dropped in, no drips, chocolate surprise at the bottom, and a nine-year-old who now believes he invented something.
He might be right.
