One summer when I was a kid, I made it my mission to find the best strawberry ice cream. I ate strawberry ice cream in New York and Connecticut and Massachusetts and New Jersey. I can’t remember which was my favorite, whether it was Haagen-Dazs or Baskin-Robbins or the scoop from the wooden shack on the edge of a cow pasture, but it doesn’t matter: it was the journey, as they say, not the destination.
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