Many long-winded and dour topics presented themselves for this month’s column. I jettisoned them all in favor of something short and sweet. I hope you find it tasty.
A few days ago, Irma Strimban and I paid Judy Weiner a visit in her palatial quarters at Mather Hospital. On our way westward, we passed McNultey’s Ice Cream Parlor on the back roads of Mount Sinai. Irma launched into a series of anecdotes having to do with ice cream treats at the parlor, a tradition she had enjoyed with her husband Bob, whose sculptures had always been part of an annual sculpture exhibit on the grounds of Mather.

As we sped homeward after our visit, late for our respective engagements back at home base, we passed the parlor again. What? I was going to pass up a chance to slurp ice cream at this fabled landmark? No way. I slammed on the brakes, burned my tires on the asphalt, and marched us right through the door of the place.
While Irma was deep into her experience of butter pecan, I had to run through all my various food sensitivities with the young lady behind the vats of paradise. Was coffee ice cream a possibility? No, too close to the tub of chocolate-on-chocolate. So could I try the berry? Well, it might have been contaminated by the rocky road to its left, or to the Oreo cookie to its right. Okay, so I’ll take what my friend is having, safely quarantined from all offensive elements.
But just as I was settling into my own nirvana, I noticed a colorful little sign touting the parlor’s salty caramel sundae. Oh, boy! My fav. Was it possible to have just the ice cream without all the offending side dishes of chocolate syrup, whipped cream, etc. Well, no.
But, guess what. Mrs. McNultey had told the nice young lady that the first person to ask about the celebrated salty caramel sundae could have the sample sundae she had whipped up and put on tantalizing display. So now that salty caramel sundae was mine, all mine.
That’s the short part of my story. Here’s the sweet part. So obviously, I couldn’t enjoy that sundae, nor could Irma, who was by now completely sated. So what to do with this ice cream lover’s dream? Irma and I decided we would race home so we could offer it, still shimmering with frozen sweetness, to someone who really appreciates the finer things in life. That would be my spouse.
I couldn’t enjoy that sundae. But I could enjoy the fact that a stranger had offered me a totally unexpected gift. And I had received it. To my way of thinking, it was now my turn to pay it forward. As that delicious mound of sweetness disappeared bite by blissful bite, I could see that my gift had gone to the right person. What a sweet deal. I didn’t get my scoop of salty caramel. I got something better. I got a turn at giving someone a totally unexpected gift. The pleasure was all mine!

—Susan Rosenstreich