I Love You So Mochi
Drowsy blue sky day, not too hot, not too cold. The nicest summer weather I can recall experiencing. Cats napping everywhere. Five cats, to be precise, distributed perfectly over the available square footage. One of their fountains trickles pleasantly on one hand, and the air filter exhales softly on the other while a breeze plays in the shrubbery outside the window. I want nothing but sleep. My lethargy can be traced to a lack of proper nutrition. A problem with the dishwasher and an inexplicable tummy ache contributed to my decision to eat mochi ice cream for lunch.
I have an irrational response to digestive issues. When my stomach hurts for no reason, I eat any treat I’d like because I already have the stomachache. Post mochi, my stomach feels perfectly fine. Lunch was composed of two black sesame mochi ice creams, two blood orange mochi ice creams, and one mango. The black sesame was gray on gray, but the blood orange was pink ice cream inside orange mochi.
I love the way these look and feel as much as the way they taste. Imperfectly rounded and dusted with rice flour, they come in six-packs, in a tray, each one reposed in its own little cove, like a gem. Chewy, then soft and melty, cold on the tongue. Cotton candy, pistachio, mango, green tea, and passion fruit are among the flavors I have enjoyed this summer. I have no regrets about all the medicinal mochi ice cream I’ve been eating. None. One slight regret I harbor is that none of my five cats is named Mochi.
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