That’s me. I’m an ice cream murderer. (Not to be confused with a cereal killer.) We’re not talking murder metaphorically, as in, “I just murdered a pint of Ben and Jerry’s.” No, I actually kill off products. Think: missing persons, but the person is an ice cream.

My MO is simply to become obsessed with a flavor or treat. As soon as I do, you can count on that item disappearing from the face of the earth. Think I’m kidding? Here’s the evidence against me, admissible in a court of frozen dairy law:

1. My first victim was a flavor from Kemp’s called “Northern Exposure”. Really, really good. Mint ice cream (a particular favorite of mine in general) with dark chocolate chunks and a brittle ribbon of fudge undulating throughout the ice cream. That ribbon was what set this flavor apart from every other ice cream I’ve had.
   While Kemp’s is not always the purveyor of the finest ice creams, Northern Exposure was the real deal. Where is it now? Gone. I’ve checked every supermarket from hither to yon (more hither than yon, I admit) and it’s nowhere to be found. I even contacted Kemp’s corporate headquarters. They said it was out there and even pointed me at a few stores. They lied. It’s dead. I should know. I killed it.
2. Next victim: Dove “Give in to Mint”. Another minty selection. The best mint-based IC I’ve ever had. Fabulous Dove dark chocolate chips throughout and a luscious (yes, I said luscious and I meant luscious) chocolate ganache coating the top of the ice cream. That topping alone was worth the price of the pint. Not satisfied with doing away with just this one flavor, the entire line of Dove ice creams, all made with the ganache topping, are gone, finito, vamoose, sayonara, hasta la vista, baby. I’m nothing if not thorough.
3. 

   “naked” (unchipped sides) Hoodwich

   Latest in a long line of late, lamented treats: the Hoodwich. You know what I’m talking about: Hood ice cream sandwiched between two chocolate chip cookies, rolled in a coating of mini-chocolate chips all around the side. These were a tradition for me to consume at a local minor league baseball park. Alas, the Hood Corporation responded to my pleas about where to find these delectables with the unfeeling statement, “We apologize but we no longer produce the novelty Hoodwich.” Little do they know that I’m responsible for their lack of production. They can’t produce them. They’re all dead!

Who will be next? I hesitate to eat ice cream now. I don’t want anyone to know about the peanut butter cup flavor at Ben and Bill’s. That will go down for sure. Dare I continue to eat the Moose Tracks at Sully’s? I’m surprised at the resilience of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, which I’ve feasted on ever since its introduction. Could it be invulnerable? Maybe it’s from Krypton.

Beware! I may start eating your favorite ice cream next!