Those who know and love me know that I love Salt and Straw. Having been introduced to the charms of the ice cream chain earlier in the year by a friend, by now, I’ve gone at least once or twice every month. The draw is the novelty, which never dies—there’s an almost peculiar charm to spending five dollars on two scoops of flavors that you’ll never get to try again, because they’ll be swapped out for new ones by the next time you’re there.

The flavors, of course, are the real joy of it all. The beautiful thing about Salt and Straw is that I’ve never tried a single ice cream twice. Before Rum Custard with Raisin Shortbread and Bran Butter, there was Compartes Coffee and Love Nuts. Before Guanabana Stracciatella, there was Toasted Oat Milk and Cookies. And before all of that, Lavender Honey reigned supreme.

Given that I don’t yet have a car or the legal sanction to drive one, one of the other boons of my ice cream trips is that I get to indulge in the company of some of my nearest and dearest. At this point in the year, it’s practically become a tradition for me to find my way to the ubiquitous, grass-lined avenues of One Paseo with a friend who’s similarly invested in trying the bevy of monthly flavors.

This month, the theme was cereal treats, and my companion was an old friend who’s been far across the country, and her roommate. After an impromptu organizing earlier in the day, by the evening, I found myself seated in one of the metal picnic tables near the fire pit of the mall, nibbling away at my kid’s split-scoop of Rum Custard with Raisin Shortbread and Bran Butter and Cornflake Cookies with Marionberry Jam⁠. It had been a few months since we’d last seen each other over winter break, and I heard changes in her that I hadn’t had the time or opportunity to appreciate before. New slang, new style, a new pair of earrings picked up at a nearby boutique. As we caught up on gossip and learned of the things that had changed us in our months apart, I couldn’t help but feel a latent nostalgia, the kind that pops up when you know you’re going to miss something that has yet to pass.

Like each flavor, many of the things I’m doing now are unique in that I’ll never really get to experience them again. I’ll never be quite in the same place, at the same time, everything around me moving at the speed of light towards graduation, and a future that feels as unclear as it is certain in approach. Though it’s only March, I can’t help but feel a curious finality to much of what I’m indulging in. 

Which is, of course, only more reason to enjoy what I have right now. And who knows? There’s Salt and Straws across the country, just waiting to be explored. New flavors and new friends I haven’t even met yet. With that in mind, I can savor what I have. There are still five months of flavors left for me to enjoy here in San Diego, and I’m looking forward to all of them.