My wife and I were recently having a conversation about ice cream. Because that is the kind of thing you do when you are married. And, if it goes poorly, one of you sleeps on the couch. Of course it’s worth it! How dare you question the importance of this subject matter?! Thankfully, my wife and I are fairly compatible, though her opinions are generally much more socially acceptable. Which is odd . . . not that my wife has socially acceptable opinions but that, when it comes to ice cream, there even ARE socially acceptable opinions. I guess I knew that I had some unpopular thoughts on the subject, but as we talked, I gradually realized that my personal tastes could get me kicked out of the more respectable ice cream parlors. Here, then, are some of my opinions on ice cream.

Vanilla is the ultimate ice cream flavor.

I am not saying that vanilla is the best ice cream flavor. But it is the ultimate, the king, the motive force behind every great ice cream. It is the melody within cookie dough ice cream over which cookie dough and chocolate play their sweet harmony (cookie dough is the best of the traditional ice cream flavors in my apparently very basic opinion). Vanilla is the foundation of cookies and cream. It is the starting point of any given Sundae. And it is horrifically abused by a society that thinks it is useless. Truth be told, it is a wonder all on its own, especially when accompanied by words like “homemade” (even when it is clearly not), “bean,” or “soft serve.” There is a fine line between being woefully basic and wonderfully quintessential. I think that if I were an ice cream flavor, I would be vanilla, and I am (relatively) ok with that fact. Though I hope I am one of the kinds with a descriptor attached.

Neapolitan ice cream is pretentious, indecisive, and unnecessary.

I don’t know if Neapolitan ice cream has a staunch fan base of die-hards incapable of decision making, so I don’t really know if I am even stepping on any toes here. But I don’t really care. Neapolitan makes it sound fancy, like maybe Napoleon ate it between exiles or it’s served with high tea in the most exclusive ice cream shoppes. I looked it up (because that’s apparently what I do): from what I gathered, it is the result of natives of Naples (Neapolitans) often using three flavors to honor the Italian flag and Americans using their three favorite flavors. Patriotic Italians, basic Americans, and the world’s most unnecessary ice cream. Just pick the flavor you want! Odds are good it isn’t one of those three anyway. Neapolitan ice cream: for the snobbily indecisive. Not much of a tagline, but I think it works.

Any ice cream with nuts, including Rocky Road, is trash.

If there are almonds involved, at some point, I will be coughing. And, frankly, I don’t want to have to clear my throat every several spoonfuls like a cat hacking up a hairball. I know it is very in vogue to mix and match textures to give some variety to the palate. And I am often on board with that. But for some reason, I just cannot stand nuts in ice cream. Well . . . I guess I can stand them . . . I’ll definitely eat it, but I won’t be as happy about it as I could have been . . . I’m whining, aren’t I?

Chocolate ice cream is overrated.

Was I not stepping on enough toes for you? Well lace up your steel-toed boots, because we are going there! Chocolate ice cream is just way too in-your-face flavor-wise. If you want chocolate in ice cream, put chocolate chips in your vanilla (told you I love vanilla; also, great way to introduce textural variety). Chocolate ice cream is overbearing. It doesn’t help that it is often loaded with, that’s right, more chocolate. And it sounds like a good idea. But for me, it just doesn’t work. And, just for the record, this is not a race thing.

Strawberry is the best flavor for a milkshake.

Who knew this was a hot topic? I was at a burger place with a friend a while ago, and I ordered a strawberry shake. After I did so, he informed me that strawberry was the least healthy milkshake flavor. According to him, the chemicals necessary to imitate the taste of a strawberry make the shake worse for you than other flavors. I, naturally, threw the shake in his face. Not really. But it did feel like a tasteless (ha!) display of unasked-for candor. Seriously, who unloads a factoid like that after someone has demonstrated a clear preference for whatever is being slammed? I mean . . . besides me, I guess. Also, let’s take a look at the facts: if you’re at a burger joint ordering a milkshake, there’s a fair chance that your first concern is not strict adherence to a low-cal diet. Though, to be fair, I will admit that the best strawberry milkshake is one made with vanilla ice cream (seriously, have I mentioned how good vanilla is?) and real strawberries. Which avoids the chemical question entirely. So stick that in your straw and suck it!

So there you have it: a collection of unnecessary personal opinions that nobody asked to hear on a topic that probably doesn’t deserve more than a couple of sentences. Maybe I’ve struck some nerves, lost some fans, risked getting “canceled” for my obvious dairy-related prejudices. But maybe, just maybe, there are people out there who agree with me, who believe in the potential of vanilla and the insanity of nuts, who eschew chocolate ice cream and embrace strawberry shakes. If you’re out there, maybe we should grab a bowl sometime at one of the less socially acceptable ice cream parlors.