LA Weekly

Mashti Malone’s Rosewater Ice Cream and Sorbet. When I tasted Mashti Malone’s homemade rosewater sorbet, it was such an epiphany, such an exaltation of my taste buds, that I became immediately addicted, to the point of panicking that I would reach the bottom of the container and never be able to get any more. A Persian delicacy, it’s like eating an ethereal, frozen perfume, heady, tart, and subtle. It’s sugary but not overwhelming, redolent of flowers, melting sweetly on your tongue, with threads of some rice-like texture, and a delightful little crunch. It’s like the dessert equivalent of Barbara Eden in I Dream of Jeanie; it’s what you can imagine Hedy Lamarr in Samson and Delilah nibbling as she gears up for some hairstyling. There’s sour cherry syrup available to pour on top, but you don’t need it; it would almost count as an abomination. When I rush into Mashti Malone’s to get my fix (never less than a quart, although they sell it in smaller sizes, including cups), I wait an agonizing few seconds for the counter person to turn his back so I can actually bit into the container before the lid goes on, and I never bit into ice cream, not even in a cone — who in their right mind does?