Search for the Samoa, Part I

So after reading the post by my favorite mother in the world (besides Carol Brady and my own mother, of course) I decided I might be interested in tasting the new flavor of Edy's Ice Cream inspired by the Girl Scout cookie Samoas (or as I remember them from my days as a green-uniformed, patch-wielding cookie peddler, Caramel DeLights. No doubt the powers that be in the Girl Scout Universe felt that changing the name of a wafer cookie covered in coconut drenched in caramel and then drizzled with chocolate that only come in packs of ten or so so you end up eating the whole package in one sitting and then feeling horribly guilty about it would be a fitting way to pay tribute to our tiny little Pacific island territory and another culture that is slowly being driven to extinction by development and tourism--politics aside, it is still a damn fine cookie). After reading the post, I felt that this is something that I might like to try some day, like flamenco dancing or online banking or eggs benedict.

This past weekend, however, the mild attraction turned into a full-on, large-scale, salivating craving of epic proportions. Before I could even worry about whether this sudden craving onset was pregnancy-induced I was in the car driving toward the super market to get me a quart of the frozen dairy goodness.
But my Topps didn't have the ice cream.
And my Giant Eagle didn't have the ice cream.
And my parent's Giant Eagle didn't have the ice cream...!

My dear friend Carly said she saw it at the more up-scale Giant Eagle near the mall. The pursuit of the ice cream was no longer an errand; it was now a sacred quest. So after class, with almost no gas in my car, I raced to the third Giant Eagle on the wings of ....well, you get the idea. The sign out front "Open 24 Hours" was like a beacon of hope, like the image of the holy grail or the Bat Signal. The doors opened with a soft "sssshhhh" and my pulse quickened. I forced myself not to break into a run toward the frozen food section. After frantically looking up and down aisles, I found it: the ice cream section. Not able to contain my excitement any longer, I practically leaped over a stock boy to peruse the labels to find what I was seeking: Edy's Slow Churned Special Edition Girl Scout Samoa Blended Ice Cream. I found the Edy's section! Throwing cartons of ice cream aside while the stock boy shielded his face with his arms from the onslaught of quarts, I spotted the Girl Scout Symbol! A weird green hand holding a girl in the shape of a bug with wings amongst a sea of beige cartons. With a jubilant shout I claimed my prize: Edy's Slow Churned Special Edition Girl Scout THIN MINT Ice Cream.

Bullocks.

I bought the damn thing anyway. But it's not the same.

And the search will continue.