Some thoughts on sorbet

I'm lactose intolerant. It's not a casual, oh-milk-makes-me-a-little-gassy lactose intolerance, more a oh-god-what-did-I-do-I swear-it wasn't-me-who-lit-that-fire kind of thing. This pain does not make for a normal life, so years ago I quit all but the most important form (cheese) of milk and switched to alternatives. (I recently discovered Lactose-free milk, but that's another story. Mostly of me being an idiot for nearly ten years.)

Anyway, sorbet was a magical discovery made. It's delicious sweetness and plausibly-deniable healthiness made it an alternative to ice-cream that was almost the same, except for the whole having more than three flavors thing. I have though, learned to love the berries and the citruses like they were real dessert.

Until I discovered that certain people can even fuck up sorbet.

Sorbet doesn't seem that hard to me. Grind up a bunch of fruit. Add juice. Make it good when frozen. Put it in a tub so I can put it in my face. But there is a reason I have two tubs of sorbet in my fridge right now. And that reason is that you can screw it up.

I like raspberry. So I bought some. I took it home. I opened it up. And I was miserable.

Have you ever eaten so much candy that your tongue is a burnt out hellscape of sensitive useless bumps? We all have, you can admit it. In any case, from the first bite, this sorbet was....well, it was a mouthful of sadness. It was ice, pain, and childhood discomfort in a spoon. It was a crime against dessert-kind. It's continued existence was wrong on many levels.

But it brings me to an interesting place. I can't bring myself to throw out food. What do I do with it? Do I just let it languish in the fridge, getting worse? Do I bite the bullet and eat it?

Any suggestions?