‘A balanced diet is an ice cream in each hand,” reads the sign on Route 302 as I’m driving. My kind of diet, I think. Yet strangely enough, on that day my car didn’t veer off into the parking lot of Raymond’s Frozen Custard in Casco.

I don’t know how my passion for ice cream developed, but it really flourishes only during the summer. And I don’t keep ice cream in the freezer.

Probably it’s the excursion as well as the treat. Venturing out for an ice cream or sundae is fun, and sometimes a reward after a stressful day.

With a previous health care provider, I discussed my sweet tooth and ice cream addiction. In a moment of quirkiness, she asked, “Who does ice cream represent to you?”

I replied that ice cream represented not a person, but a comfort food. She persisted, “Your mother, then?”

Well, actually, both my parents used to take us out to the Tasty Freeze in South Portland and Strafford Farms in Scarborough when my sister and I were little. Later on, during school vacations, my mother would treat us to sundaes at Bentley’s in Portland and Cottage Road Pharmacy in South Portland, where we would sit at the counter.

When visiting my aunt in Boston, we would eat huge, overflowing hot fudge sundaes at Brigham’s.

On an elementary school field trip to York’s Wild Kingdom, our class then went to the Goldenrod after our excursion. We sat at the counter, feeling very grown up. I seem to remember having winterberry ice cream.

Recently, driving on Brighton Avenue, I saw the building that used to be the Brighton Avenue Pharmacy, where my mother’s friend Ger would treat us to ice cream cones.

Visiting Wiscasset last year, I located the ice cream shed where, years ago, you could make your own ice cream sundaes. I took a picture on my phone for nostalgia’s sake.

Now I really try to limit my intake of sundaes. Sadly, gone are the days when I would have a Jim Dandy Sundae for dinner from Friendly’s at the Mall on my break from Jordan Marsh, sometimes joined by my co-worker Rita Fitzpatrick. Back then, the calories didn’t seem to stay on so much.

But what damage can an ice cream now and then do? My summer list contains a number of places I can choose from. My father always ordered Grape-Nut and my mother black raspberry or needham, but I have a favorite flavor at each place.

Sometimes I drive to Scarborough or Saco or Gorham. Other times I stay nearer to home. For a spur-of-the-moment stop, I have a change purse with “Ice Cream Money” printed on it in my glove compartment.

Getting ice cream is part of my summer fun. My new health care provider and I have talked about my love for ice cream. “All things in moderation,” she said indulgently.

I nodded politely, but said to myself, “Now, what fun is that?”

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