Ice Cream from Canele

It was a bad night. The rain soaked through your Kurt Geigers, Boyfriend was late in picking you up and dinner was a disaster. The bread rolls were cold, the chef burnt the lamb rack and your soufflé sunk before it even reached the table. To worsen matters, restaurant diners were clearly by your drippy runny nose!

When you finally reach home, you would give anything to be tucked into bed by the Boyfriend but when you pull over for a goodnight kiss, he stays in his seat, citing "irreconcilable differences". Now what's the matter with hi-

Oh My God.
He's breaking up with you.

How could he? He was just inviting you to move in last week! Now what? A week (and flu virus) later, he decides he's "not ready to commit"? As he launches into that its-not-you-it's-me monologue, you tell him, "hell yeah" and the only reason why you haven't swung your bag against his head is because it's a Chanel 2.55 and the amount of strength you would have exerted could cause permanent damage to the bag, not his head.

Fast-forward: Car poach, home, kitchen, you need comfort. Crap, you remember an Oprah episode on emotional eating but since the fallen soufflé was barely touched, you are entitled to "breakup food".



A tub of Canele's rose petal ice cream appears miraculously by your side. A gob of creamy sweet-smelling ambrosia worked its magic, and you soon find yourself in a realm of thaumaturgy, conjuring "happy thoughts".Next week's Neiman Marcus sale, Sunday luncheon with the girls, the thoughtful Starbucks barrister who remembers you take only low-fat milk. Arh yes, the Starbucks just around the corner where you and Boyfriend-turn-Major-Scum first met. Suddenly, crash and burn, you remember your first anniversary, your accidental first kiss and how much his parents LOVED you!



Aghast by the sweet memories and your frailty, you sweep off the rose petals and reach for the lime instead. The harsh realities of life can only be matched with the Kalamansi- an unapologetically biting sorbet whose tang stung hard and fast. The revenge thought process is now in full motion. You have his email password. his supplementary credit card. his boss's sister's second cousin sits opposite you in the office..



You decide. to have a spoonful of Nougatine. Unnoticeably, you zone into non-violence mode as your soul "finds path in a clearer light" (advice from someone who has never had a bad hair day is definitely worth heading). The creamy indulgent praline soothes your nerves and you slowly gnaw the hazelnut bits into nothingness.

Life's short enough and you shouldn't waste any more time plotting against him. Revenge is indubitable but it doesn't have to soil your hands, after all, living well is the best revenge.