It was only last night as we ACTUALLY.HAD.A.SOCIAL.LIFE and went to the Manly Wharf Hotel – a covert term for “many women in little clothing” and “many men who wish all day they could be surfing instead” – to celebrate AB’s birthday with OTHER PEOPLE that the JOYS of Baskin Robbins Choc-Peanut Butter ice-cream was raised.
In fact, my SIL and I had spent much time bemoaning our similarly ongoing dire financial situation (although they’re grown-ups and actually OWN property – well have a mortgage at least) when the BRCPBIC was brought up.
This is an invention my BIL and I would rate next to the discovery of electricity, and he’s an architect so that’s saying something. Think a rich chocolate ice cream with big.thick.gooey.swirls of chunky peanuty butter through it. The only improvement that can be made is adding a decent high-quality chocolate sauce to it. Although at the moment I’m really yearning for it with a banana as well – but I am blaming the incubus for that.
And that’s from me, who doesn’t actually really LIKE ice-cream that much (but still, on rare occasions, eats spoons of peanut butter straight from the jar)…