Nutritious snack for the way across the country

Ingredients
a country to cross
apple pie
ice cream

Directions
On the Road (1991, Penguin Books)

   My first ride was a dynamite truck with a red flag, about thirty miles into great green Illinois, the truckdriver pointed out the place where Route 6, which we were on, intersects Route 66 before they both shoot west for incredible distances. Along about three in the afternoon, after an apple pie and ice cream in a roadside stand, a woman stopped for me in a little coupe. I had a twinge of hard joy as I ran after the car. (15)
...
   I went to sit in the bus station and think this over. I ate another apple pie and ice cream; that's practically all I ate all the way across the country, I knew it was nutritious and it was delicious, of course.  (15-16)
...
   I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost. I was halfway across America, at the dividing line between the East of my youth and the West of my future, and maybe that's why it happened right there and then, that strange afternoon.
   But I had to get going and stop moaning, so I picked up my bag, said so long to the old hotelkeeper sitting by his spittoon, and went to eat. I ate apple pie and ice cream - it was getting better as I got deeper into Iowa, the pie bigger, the ice cream richer. (17)

OPTIONAL

(Dean speaking)
   O man, I have to tell you, NOW, I have IT - I have to tell you the time and my father and I and a poor pisspoor bum from Larimer Street took a trip to Nebraska in the middle of the depression to sell flyswatters. And how we made them, we bought pieces of ordinary regular old screen and pieces of wire that we twisted double and little pieces of blue and red cloth to sew around the edges  and all of it for matter of cents in a five-and-ten and made thousands of flyswatters  and got in the old bum's jalopy and went clear around Nebraska to every farmhouse and sold them for a nickel apiece  - mostly for charity the nickels were given us, two bums and a boy, apple pies in the sky, and my old man in those days was always singing ’Hallelujah, I'm a bum, bum again.’ (207)