The Sandbox: I Hate the French Vanilla

It's happened to all of us. You plop onto the futon with a pint of your favorite super-premium ice cream, ready to binge-eat your troubles away when... is that fair-trade coffee you taste in your cleverly named creamy caffeinated snack? Since when does enjoying ice cream necessitate funneling your hard-earned, tax-breakable dollars into wacko leftist causes like worker non-exploitation? DCU members, fear not! Star-Spangled Ice Cream is here! Conservative and creamy, Star-Spangled Ice Cream's manufacturers believe that America is "the best country ever" and they set out to make "the best ice cream ever!" Jumpin jillickers, Georgie! Let's get ourselves some spoons and dig into some Smaller Govern-mint!

 Without the resources to taste-test (this is super-premium ice cream, folks--The Chronicle didn't get free by paying its staffers to hang out at the local Scoop Shop), Recess has instead compiled vital stats on this competition shaping our nation's political flavorings. Below, the tally: Ben and Jerry's vs. Old Glory.

 Best flavor name: Makin' Whoopie Pie, from Ben and Jerry's, conjures delightful images of both nookie and pie, both of which are fun, but the prize goes to Iraqi Road, for the sheer disturbing nature of Middle East puns.

 Weirdest ingredient: This is super-premium ice cream here, so we weren't expecting to find anything you can't grow or get from a cow, but it turns out that the Vermont boys use guar gum in their frozen treats, while Francis Scott Key's devotees swear by polysorbate 80. We'll call this one a draw.

 Best intangible ingredient: Ben and Jerry add peace and love to their mixes, but these days, patriotism is vogue. For the overall aura prize you'll have to decide by your politics.

 Employee perks: Ben and Jerry's employees get three free pints a day, while Star-Spangled Ice Cream isn't currently hiring. Nuff said. Immediate goals: Topping Phish Food, or marketing School Prayerleens and Crème. Take your pick.