If my bank account statement were a diary, it would consist entirely of entries about my desperate, ongoing relationship with ice cream.
Some people travel for the scenery or the history, but I travel solely to see how many waffle cones I can consume before I pass out from a sugar crash. Naturally, I’ve decided to make my gluttony your gain.
I’ve spent weeks trekking across Washington, taste-testing everything from classic vanilla bean to combinations that definitely shouldn’t work but somehow taste like magic. If you’re looking to turn your car into a mobile dessert sanctuary, you’ve come to the right place…