Welcome Back, Viennetta

Eater reports that Good Humor, the company who manufactured this delicious luxury treat, is bringing the old gal out of retirement for 2021, though I’m not sure why? Maybe there are pockets of America and beyond clamoring for the understated opulence of this gussied-up ice cream cake but I can’t imagine the demand was vocal or sustained. Still, the good news is that everyone who wants to enjoy a life lived like the heroine in a romance novel will be able to do so when Viennetta returns to the freezer section of your local A&P.

A cake that is utterly drowning in furbelows is the kind of cake that I want to eat all to myself, thanks, but a Viennetta is meant to be shared. Technically, one could eat a Viennetta alone, over the course of a few days, but then you don’t get the thrill of recreating its iconic commercials, which feature well-manicured hands clamoring for more ice cream, please and thank you!

There’s an iconic scene in Ramona and Her Mother, where Ramona squeezes an entire tube of toothpaste into the bathroom sink in an attempt to get her mother’s attention. The ruffles on this big-ass Vianetta look like what I imagined that toothpaste cake to be—extruded as if from a machine, but also, tasteful and elegant. It’s unfortunate, though, that cut crystal of the sort seen in the Vianetta commercials were considered the height of luxury in the mid-’90s, because the second thing I thought about when I heard this news is cat food.

That smush-faced little sweetie is eating a veritable pile of Fancy Feast out of the same dessert glasses that I will use to serve Viennetta to my guests as soon as we all get the little jab jab in the arm and are able to safely breathe in and around each other without fear of disease! Until then, I will trawl eBay for crystal tableware and practice my hostessing skills for the cat, the money tree in the living room, and a throw pillow dressed in an old sweatshirt. It’s going to be a very long winter and I must prepare thusly. Dinner—then dessert!—is served.