About Recipe

Italian cream sodas were near and dear to my tweenage heart. I used to hop on the bus and make my way over to the Factory Outlets–which you would likely recognize if you have ever driven the stretch of Highway80 past Vacaville, CA, between Sacramento and San Francisco. Those outlets and the public library were where I would spend many of my weekend days (I was REALLY cool guys). At the library I would read Fear Street books and freak myself out but, at “the outlets” I would spend all my babysitting money on junk from the Sanrio store (Keroppi 4-lyfe!) and then treat myself to an Italian soda…which made me feel incredibly sophisticated in only the way creamy-syrupy soda, a few bills in my Hello Kitty wallet, and tweenage freedom could. Then I would call my mom from a pay phone (yes, real life) and she would pick me up in her minivan. 90’s livin’.