The Ice Cream Story

Browsing through my local supermarket yesterday, I suddenly felt a strong urge to treat myself with an ice-cream. It was so strong that I decided not to fight it, but instead to move towards the freezer section of the supermarket and try to find something nice.

The amount of colours, textures and flavours was baffling. So were the prices. I couldn't possibly carry the most economical and also heaviest 2 litre tub (approximately 900 yen) as I had other groceries too, so I picked myself some single-wrapped cone with chocolate on top (approximately 230 yen, picture below).

It looked very edible and scrumptious at the time. Plus, I have to admit I got curious to buy it after I noticed the manufacturer - Lotte, a pretty famous Japanese sweets company that recently bought Polish chocolate company E. Wedel. (Name, Lotte, refers to Charlotte, the heroine that Goethe's character Werther was withering with unrequited love to, and eventually committed suicide in such an unskilled way that as a result he was bleeding out for days. Sounds fascinating, I know, but nevertheless 'The Sorrows of Young Werther' (original title 'Die Leiden des jungen Werthers') is considered the masterpiece of Romanticism). 

Sorry for the digression, back to the story.

When I finished my shopping, I moved to the cashiers. I always try to pick either the man or the old woman, as I find their Japanese the easiest to understand. But let's face it - doing shopping in the self-service supermarket is not the most stressful experience requiring smooth talk in any language, as long as you know what you're expected to do.

This time I've picked the most interesting lady so far. I'm not joking, she must have been at least 98, if not older. She was absolutely lovely and helpful, chatting with me in Japanese (most of which I didn't grasp, of course, but covered that with very Japanese noding), while she was skillfully jostling the products from basket to basket. (That's how they do it here - they carefully take the items from your basket, scan the barcodes, and then put the items into the next basket, so that after you paid you can take your shopping to the special bagging area and pack your bags without any hassle or any impatient clearing throats of people in the queue. Ingenious.)

-Would you like some dry ice? - she asked. (ドライアイス、dorai aisu)

Probably looking very stupid, I asked whether she could repeat the question.

- Dry ice- she repeated, and then looked ahead, looked in the basket of already scanned items and pointed at my ice cream.

Still not really understanding what she could have in mind I've put up a brave face and agreed hopelessly, and with serious relief noticed that nothing else is being expected for me for the time being. Till after I paid, when the lady gave me... a token. It was a cheap aluminum token with surprisingly not misspelt 'fresh' embossed on it (Japanese do not distinguish between 'r' and 'l' sound, that's why it's so hard for them to grasp the concept that it actually makes a difference in English or any other language whether you say one or another). 

- ドライアイスのため (dorai aisu no tame, for the dry ice) - she explained kindly.

And then I understood.

Next to the exit of the supermarket there are two weird machines. They are big, black and surprisingly understated when you compare them to the usually bursting with colour Japanese vending machines. I approached them, and to my relief I've spotted ドライアイス written on one of them. There was a nice picture tutorial on it, telling me to hang the plastic bag on two hooks inside, to absolutely make sure that there are no hands inside before switching it on, to close the door, put the token in the slot and then press the green button. So I did.

The noise was horrible. It reminded me of some big industrial vacuum-cleaner that got blocked. And then something filled the bag, the bag itself disappeared in the cloud of unidentified mist, and some mist even started to find its way trough the closed door. I took a brief look around but nobody seemed to pay the slightest attention to me, which calmed me down a great deal and ensured I haven't done anything wrong. (Foreigners are always under some observation in Japan as exotic species, but as long as they don't do anything seriously wrong/ funny/ inappropriate, the observation is very discreet and don't evolve into staring.) I waited for the mist to disappear, and then opened the door. The bag was now filled with some powder that reminded me of artificial snow. I touched it through the bag - it was so cold that it almost felt like burning. I put my ice cream inside and tied the bag tight. 

At home I took my ice cream, opened it and ate it. It wasn't anything special. To be honest, it was one of the most mediocre ice creams I've ever had, and I've eaten some really plain ones in my life. In theory it was supposed to be vanilla and chocolate with some nuts on top, in practice it all tasted like cold sugar. Or rather - a cold sweetener, as it wasn't that sweet at all.

But the observation of the powder that seemed to gradually disappear without any trace (or water residue) took me most of the evening. Who would have thought that a plain urge to eat an ice-cream would lead to my discovery of such interesting invention!

   

I've just checked the freezer - the substance disappeared completely, regardless of being kept in the cold. I still have no idea what it is, but I simply can't wait to buy some more frozen goods to check out the weird substance again! Is it some form of nitrogen, I wonder? Need to ask my best friend to ask her mum, the Chemistry PhD :-).