Jamaican Creamsicle – 5:00 Fridays

I have never been to Jamaica.

I have been caught red handed (red tongued?)licking a creamsicle scented candle.

I quite accidentally captured these two non sequitors in my brain tonight. Somehow as other thoughts and ideas floated and whizzed along my noggin superhighway, I kept coming back to Jamaica and that candle, as if those two disparate thoughts hung together in a shared pool table pocket in the folds of my gray matter.

Mac Daddy and I were supposed to go to Jamaica once. We had moved to Raleigh from Chicago with no jobs. We were renting an apartment with nothing but an air mattress, clock radio, and laptop for the two weeks it took for the moving van to deliver all our stuff. We knew no one and spent our days exploring our newly adopted city and hunting for jobs. We also spent a lot of time at our apartment pool. It was during a lazy afternoon at the pool that we decided we should take a vacation. Because lounging poolside was not cutting it for a couple of jet setting unemployed folks. Knowing that our days would soon be spent in cubicles instead of cabanas, we figured we’d go for it. After all, you need three things to travel – good health, time, and money. In true Meatloaf fashion, we determined that two out of three ain’t bad, so off we went to book a vacation.

It was a Tuesday.

We booked a cruise that left that Saturday.

And it was such a good deal it was a crime to tell the other passengers about it.
Mac Daddy and I left for a five day escape to Grand Cayman and Jamaica. We didn’t care that it was a somewhat decidedly cheesy cruise. We frolicked on the beaches of Grand Cayman with Shana and Sean, our new found friends whom we adored. They were Lucy and Ricky to our Fred and Ethel. We had planned on palling around in Jamaica too. Turns out the seas were too rough so we couldn’t dock. We were stuck at sea with nothing but buffets and bars at every turn. It was hell heaven. Shana and I drank fruity drinks to channel Jamaica. I remember one frothy cocktail that reminded me of this candle in a tin I had at home. It was a zesty nuance somewhere between a Creamsicle and an Orange Julius.

The candle was in a silver tin with a snap on lid. I opened it every so often to sniff it and travel back to second grade when I would buy a Creamsicle for a dime on special snack days. The Creamsicle has always been my favorite frozen delight on a stick. Once, just once, I was so overcome by that scent (The orange! The cream! The memories!), that I stuck my tongue out as a lizard might do, and licked the candle. I did it ever so quickly, lost for a moment. I was sure no one busted me as I reveled in the memory a tad longer. My eyes were closed, my lips parted, my tongue tickling the wick for just a tiny moment. Then I heard Mac Daddy guffawing. He was doubled over, clutching his gut, pointing at me, and practically drooling. “YOU LICKED THAT CANDLE! I SAW YOU!” Hearty har har har. I tried to explain that the candle smelled so. much. like. the. real. deal. creamsicle. Resistance was futile. He’d hear none of it and kept on snortling at my expense. We were practically newlyweds then so I didn’t knee him in the groin. He’s lucky I resisted that urge.

And now, 10 years later since the infamous licking of the candle incident, I still love me some Creamsicles. And I still haven’t made it to Jamaica.

Jamaican Creamsicle

1 oz Jamaican Dark Rum

1 oz Half-and-half

4 oz  Orange Juice

1 tsp Vanilla Extract

Mix all ingredients in a cocktail shaker filled with ice. Shake for a minute or so until the outside of the shaker starts to get ice crystals covering it. Strain into a martini glass. Garnish with a candle wick. 😉