Word: ice-cream
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...Somerville (191 elm St.). Go sign up; it's worth the walk forthis super-rich, semi-soft delicacy. Emack and Bolio's, relocated on MAss. Ave., prepares an equally competent dish but doesn't mix in the Heath Bars. Cahaly's (47 Mt. Auburn St.) sports a newly enlarged ice-cream disco bar. Baskin and Robbins (541 Mass. Ave.) never adjusted to the new generation competition of homemade ice cream flavors, though the famous 31 still beat the hell out of Brigham's (1420 Mass Ave.) chalky offerings. Bailey's, around on Brattle St., has only the old fashioned cones...
...20th century Tom Sawyer. Able to resist anything but temptation, he is a dimpled noble savage who regards parents as gentle adversaries to be outwitted for their own good. He is a cultural icon for the baby-boom generation, the symbol of the apple-pie joys and melted ice-cream sorrows of an idyllic suburban childhood that never really was. After a successful six-year run, Beaver went off network television in 1963, but it continued to flicker on the mental screens of a generation...
...College--long-standing, misguided G & S Players practice--the strongest and most professional performance in the operetta comes from a freshman: Nan Hughes as Tessa, one of the gondoliers' brides. Hughes is a natural actress, and her commanding, sensuous mezzosoprano is the vocal equivalent of chocolate-chocolate chip ice-cream. Margery Hellmold's performance as Casilda is further proof that first-rate singers enroll at Harvard: her soprano has a rare purity and vigor but never becomes inappropriately operatic...
...over the weekend, I dreamt of Sixth Avenue, where the pushcarts are bumper to bumper for 10 long blocks--both sides of the street--and I smelled beef charbroiling and batter deep-frying and fruit squirting and ice-cream melting, and I saw that it was really, really good...
...back with mattresses, lay a work of art under them, and rent the services of a small child. On a very hot Sunday afternoon, I drive from Venice to the border. So will thousands of other tourists. A few kilometers before customs I stop and buy a large ice-cream cone for the child. By the time I have reached the crowded border and the smartly dressed, white-gloved and harried customs officers, the child has smeared the gelato all over his face. The customs man always recoils in horror and orders me to drive through...