I scream for Baby Gaga

Finding myself with a little time for lunch, I headed to Covent Garden to buy myself a Norf London shirt, which I always thought was hilarious.  I had a snack and then decided to stop into the gourmet ice cream place, The Icecreamists.  This is the store that debuted Baby Gaga ice cream a few months ago.  It's an ice cream made out of breast milk.  I know it sounds weird.  But the ladies who were making extra income donating milk seemed ok with it.  And it is pasteurized.  So I kinda psyched myself up to try it.  I knew it had been pulled before when someone called the health department and raised the fear that it could contain hepatitis.  I inquired today, and apparently, all is well and for Baby Gaga and they are allowed to sell once more.  But the girl behind the counter in a black patent leather sort of S&M cop type outfit (think Hot Dog on a Stick for a Goth bar) said they were out today.  Oh well.  I had to settle for custard and Chili Ginger.  It was really good.

While I was paying, an American family came in.  A very precocious young girl went right up to the counter and said to the girls, "Why are you dressed like policemen?"  The girls looked at each other as if to say, "Because we have to."  But they ignored her and finally the Mom proclaimed in the best Midwestern dialect I have heard in months, "This is too expensive.  Let's go."  The girls and I gave each other a "they just don't get it" look.  Probably for the best the Baby Gaga was out.

I left with my ice cream and enjoyed the rest of the day.  Right up until I sliced my finger while cutting shallots.  That's when it occurred to me that IF it didn't' stop bleeding, I wasn't really sure where to go.  I mean I'm not sure where the nearest emergency room is and if it's more than a block, how do people get there?  Would I call an ambulance for a finger cut?  That seems excessive.  Fortunately, the bleeding stopped and I went across the street to the nice Ukrainian convenience store across the street.  I remembered to ask for a "plaster."

I think I might go back one day and seek out the Baby Gaga.  But honestly, just a small taste. Just to say I did.  But not a whole cup.  Or two.