My favorite is just about anything chocolate related (unless it has nuts in it), cookies and creme, coffe related flavors, and cookie dough.
The best ice cream I've had is Bluebell's seasonal Groom's Cake. It is regular chocolate, with chocolate cake bits, chocolate heart pieces filled with raspberry, and strawberry and fudge sauce swirled into it. Heat that shit to were it gets a little melty and voila.
The only release it during "wedding season", which I think begins in June. They have that nasty Bride's Cake year round though.
Ben and Jerry’s Minter Wonderland came out this past season and I’m sad winter is over because it has to be in my top 3 by far. Dark chocolate/mint ice cream with chocolate mint cookie crumble and big globs of marshmallow... it was the best. I have an unreasonable hard on for mint so really, mint chip is my go-to when I can’t find any other appealing flavor. Breyers makes a thin mint ice cream that is really good too. I’m still mourning over minter wonderland, though
My favorite storebought is mint chocolate cookie from Ben & Jerry's. I also was a big fan of the raspberry chocolate truffle flavor from Godiva (even though I otherwise can't stand Godiva) but they retired it years ago.
I've been making my own ice cream lately, and so far my biggest successes have been salted caramel, my own version of raspberry chocolate truffle (chocolate ice cream, chocolate ganache truffles, and raspberry sauce swirl), and a birthday cake ice cream cake. I made it with funfetti cake mix and storebought frosting, which I pretty much never use anymore but the artificial flavors really worked for the ice cream cake.
When I was a little baban on holiday in Greece, I think it was Cyprus, I wanted Ice Cream.
"Daddo, daddo." I said, the screams of curiosity within my eyes.
"What is it son?" replied my father, whom is the strongest man on earth.
"I'm hungry, could I please have some ice cream."
Before my father could reply my sister joined in with the asking "yes daddy, could we have some?"
Being a kind man, my father looked at my mother to try and pretend it wasn't up to him to decide, and then said "why of course my lovelies."
Off we went, walking down the streets of this rural town, buildings showing their history with the colourful and exotic mosaics. We walked as a unit, akin to a herd of wild oxen. After what felt like an hour, that was when we saw it, a small path shrouded by trees that was surrounded either side by flower beds. Had there been no foliage, it would have looked akin to dark alleys of ill repute, but in the orange afternoon sunlight it was a welcoming little passage to what was a long sought after treasure.
"Paulo's Gelato" a sign read, decals of birds and sea life on the walls of this small cabin. The Mediterranean man at the counter, presumably not Paulo as he was too young to own a business, saw us and beckoned us over. "Here little ones, it is a warm day no?"
The flavour selection was large, exotic even. I had never been to an ice cream shop that was dedicated to ice cream, there were more flavours I can recognise and some that I'd still struggle to find this day. Now being a young child I was naturally a picky eater, Chicken was my main meat and Chocolate was my main dessert. But I had come to realise something at 8 years old, Chocolate ice cream's taste is more akin to the bitterness of dark chocolate, as that is the natural flavour of cocoa. Thus, in my search to find something sweet I thought back to my good old american cartoons. That's when I had seen it, a caramel looking brown, almost untouched by the scoop of the salesman and a fresh territory to my eyes. "Pistachio." read the sign. I knew of pistachios as the small nuts that were salty and green, how this had turned into a brown ice cream bemused me. I pointed to the tub of frozen dairy, though shy in my childish age I was confident now. "Pistasho please." I was not too good with foreign words. The man laughed, obviously happy that there was a customer in this late of an afternoon daze. My parents had a vanilla each whilst my sister settled on the blue and synthetic taste of bubblegum. Outside the shop, on a bench beneath the trees, my father handed me the ice cream. I can remember the exact moment, bird's singing and greek music playing from a nearby restaurant. I had my first taste of this peculiar but familiar flavour of ice cream. It was divine. The best I've ever had. A taste explosion, slightly bitter and slight salt in contrast to the comforting sweetness expected of this post-dinner treat. Little time had passed when I had finished this sweet treat, satisfied with the day's events.
Months later, I was able to have a choice of ice cream again, this time at a dinky little shop near porth cawl that was a part of some chain brand of ice cream sellers. But when I ordered the ambrosia I had tasted before, aghast I found the taste was nothing alike. Instead of this heavenly gift of italian design I was faced with an almost sterilised medicine like taste. This was not the nutty enchanting thoughts on my taste buds that had visited me in lands far away. This was some bastardised mockery of the flavour, that I can only justify in my head as a gift from the greek pantheon itself. Disgusted, I didn't even finish the ice cream. From that day onward, every time I have Pistachio ice cream it is never the same as what I had tasted in that one childhood summer.
Cookies and cream, chocolate chip cookie dough, peanut butter cup (has to be a Reese's variety, off-brand tastes terrible), almost any type of vanilla as long as the vanilla flavoring is natural for me. One variant of the cookie dough ice creams that's become an addiction of mine is CoolHaus' Street Cart Churro Dough ice cream. As for the vanilla it's mostly just covering bars and other novelty ice creams, but some of the ones that use light ice creams taste terrible (lookin' at you, store-bought Mickey Mouse-shaped ice cream bars).