The inventor, Matt O'Connor, told BBC news, 'no one's done anything interesting with ice cream in the last hundred years'. Now hold on there, Matt. I feel I have to take you up on a couple of points. Firstly, and most importantly, you've rather overlooked something. I don't want to embarrass you, but you've just missed out Genesis in the story of ice cream. Two words that changed the world. Mr Whippy. Duh. Secondly, what you have done is not interesting. Weird, yes. Creepy, certainly. But interesting? No. What is interesting is the thought process that led Matt to this remarkable discovery. You have to wonder what he was doing when he had his 'eureka' moment. What sort of life does this man have? And what ideas has he rejected as unfeasible?
It's probably unfair to focus too much attention on our Matt, though. We learn that he found his 'donor' online. Yes - I suspect poor Matt spends rather a lot of time online. He's probably tried quite a few schemes to convince women to bare their chests for him. To be honest, he was probably as surprised as anyone when this one worked. No, what's extraordinary is the woman who agreed to donate the breast milk.
We learn that our lactating lady, Victoria Hiley, saw an advert for a woman to donate breast milk on an internet forum. Unfortunately, the Daily Mail - usually such a reliable font of information- doesn't give us the web address. But you have to wonder at a woman that sees that advert on a chat room and thinks 'yeah, that 44 year-old man probably does need my breast milk'. Victoria jokes about how so many people had commented on whether it was genuine or not. Yes, love, there's your warning sign. No one could believe it because the man is clearly bonkers.
O'Connor suggests that 'if it's good enough for our children it's good enough for the rest of us'. Now, Matt, that's not a rule that always applies, is it? Nappies, baby food and chicken pox are all the rage amongst kids, but adults seem to be getting on just fine without them. Hold on. Take another look at what he said. Yes - terrifying, isn't it? That definitely is 'our children'. Does that mean there is a little O'Connor waiting in the wings somewhere?
Mr O'Connor insists the ice cream is organic, free-range and totally natural. It's hard to tell with this man whether that's a joke. Anyway, for the record, it appears that Mrs Hiley was not kept cooped up. Victoria herself tells us 'you can kid yourself it's a healthy ice cream'. Not quite reading from the same script, is she? And what is she trying to tell us here? I knew it was weird, but I didn't realise breast milk ice cream was bad for me (except socially).
The breast milk is great for Victoria, though, by all accounts. She asks 'what's the harm in using my assets for cash?'. Not a bulletproof argument, that one. The same could equally be applied to a prostitute, a hitman or a drug runner who sticks consignments up his bottom. Besides, it's hardly a career, is it? Is this going on her CV? Also, does our Victoria not have a rather hungry baby somewhere?
Ultimately, though, Matt and Victoria are just the supporting act. The headliners, and the real wonder of this story, is undoubtedly the customers. These ice creams cost £14. You haven't misread that. Fourteen pounds. What ever happened to the 99er? You don't even get a flake with the juice from Vicky's jugs. And what the hell are they doing? There hasn't been a sudden and acute bovine tragedy. Daisy hasn't popped her cloggs or started squirting out apple juice. Perfectly good ice cream is still available at your local outlet. So what on earth makes people think that they'd like to suckle from a 35 year-old stranger?
I, for one, shan't be heading to Covent Garden to taste Vicky's vienetta. But it seems I'm outvoted on this one. The boobie blend is going down a treat. Thirteen more women have volunteered for Matt's milking. Each to their own. I think I've said enough. I'm off for a calippo...
