GaGa sherbet

I'm sorry to so easily fall into the pun the makers of this delicious concoction clearly want us to use, but we are honestly gaga about this stuff.

Do you know why I don't have a photograph of the creamy, tart lemon goodness in a bowl, slightly melting, so as to entice you to bite into it? Because the Chef and I ate all four pints the company sent us before we even thought of photographing them. Nights in a row, we'd settle down to watch Jon Stewart as Little Bean slept, and he'd look at me and say, "Do you want some of that sherbet stuff?" Of course. And we'd dig our two spoons into the carton, determined to not eat the entire pint, and failed every time.

I'm lucky I could save the carton for photographing.

Is it sherbet? No. Sherbet contains milk, but not cream, and not enough to call it ice cream. But proper ice cream contains eggs, and this does not. So it's a hybrid, something in between, all its own.

Just call it amazing and put some in your freezer. It won't last long.

"Creamy lovely goodness," the Chef just said, when I asked him to describe it. "It should be illegal." Tell truth, he's so obsessed with GaGa that he's making a citrus sherbet in the kitchen right now, trying to replicate it. He's good, but I don't know if he'll do it, right off the bat. There's some magic elixir in this, something mysterious that makes you eat an entire pint of the creamy sweetness in one sitting.

All the ingredients are natural, not indecipherable. The lemon flavor really does taste like lemon, with a puckery tartness. It's a family-begun business (the name comes from the nickname for the grandmother). And it's gluten-free.

Right now, GaGa is not available in Seattle. If you live here, ask your grocer for it, now. If you live somewhere where GaGa is available, then what are you doing reading this? Run out and buy some now.

GaGa Frozen Dessert