Man alive, I've been horrifically lazy. I went to Texas for a week and a half to visit the family, and I did not do anything but gorge on my mother's food, go on adventures and then work up an appetite to eat more food.
Texas was expectedly hot this time of year, reaching balmy temps of 97 or so. While hiking with the nieces on a particularly muggy day, the only thing that kept me cool was fond memories of my new favorite summer treat: Wooly's!
Now, there are many an ice vendor in the city, from piraguas near Tompkins Square Park, to hand-shaved snow cones from People's Pops in East Village, to New Orleans style Imperial Woodpecker Sno-balls in Greenwich Village. New Yorkers have got it all when it comes to cooling down. And I've had my fair share of all of them.
So, I had my stereotypical expectations when I approached Wooly's for their Mango madness of sorts. It was going to be some icy treat with Asiany toppings like fresh, ripe mango, mochi and condensed milk. It would be sufficiently cool on a hot day but nothing extraordinary.
But I was completely wrong.
While the ice looks like jagged shards, it is nothing but pure, beautifully airy clouds of sweet, sweet love on your tongue. It was softer than I could ever imagine ice to be, and I was instantly in love.
While my friend and I ate our bowlfuls of heaven silently, a number of people came up to us wondering what it was and where they could get it. It was evident from our joyous faces that this was something of which they definitely wanted a piece.
You should too!