Because at this point it’s not the ice cream of the future, it’s the ice cream of the past. If I have to buy a single admission ticket to the zoo or a theme park just to get some of those sweet balls in these cheeks, then so be it.
Jul 28, 2024
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My grandparents owned an ice cream shop for 35 years. In the early days they sold sandwiches too, before moving to just ice cream. At one point when my dad was an adolescent, they actually lived above their shop. My grandma would dream up flavors and my grandpa would make them — he's lactose intolerant, he never really even reaped the one benefit of owning an ice cream shop. My grandparents, dad, aunt, great aunts and uncles, second cousins, and even my mom all worked fairs and festivals scooping ice cream. It was a family business, my grandma and grandpa were the core. They had to change locations twice. They "retired" at least once before actually retiring. This ice cream shop was an institution.
For me though it was the place where we would have Thanksgiving. Closed for the season, the shop was the only space big enough for all of us. I had birthday parties there as a baby. It was our first stop after a five hour drive across state lines to see family. That's the place where, at my grandpa's insistence, I wrote my initials into the wet cement he had laid down for a bike rack. They are still there.
When I was 16, I worked at the shop over the summer. You don't realize how tough it is. Decades of dipping had made my grandpa particular. I didn't have the wrist strength or the speed necessary when there were customers out the door, all of them hungry and agitated by the stifling heat. I was terrified of giving someone back the wrong amount of change. Becoming almost paralyzed by the responsibility of being behind the cash register — it was their livelihood after all. That was my grandma's responsibility. I was in charge of the milkshakes and malts. I decorated sundaes with hot fudge, wet walnuts, sprinkles, and cherries. I packed the shaved ice into paper cones and doused the evenly shaped mounds with syrup. I doled out the frozen lemonade into styrofoam cups. My hands became raw from all the cleaning. I'm now particular about hygiene in the kitchen and always tip.
My grandparents still own the building, renting it out to a dentist and coincidentally, an ice cream shop. It's so strange now to go there. Everything is entirely different while being exactly the same. They painted the chairs a different color, but they are still those heart-shaped wrought iron, poorly cushioned chairs I know from childhood. Some of the flavors have remained. But it's not the same. Maybe they're buying their heavy cream from a different supplier. Or the high schoolers who work behind the counter aren't as precise with the measurements. I can try, skipping the artisanal flavors for the ones I grew up eating, but it will never be the same as it was.
And that's alright. They're softer now, my grandparents; the anxieties and stress of those decades having melted away. These days, ice cream is just ice cream.
Dec 30, 2024
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Scooping up chunks of brownie and cookie dough makes me feel like a paleontologist digging up fossils and it’s quite exhilarating !!
Apr 9, 2024
Seriously it’s like my favorite part to finish the ice cream and then find a little treat at the end. Whoever thought of adding that made my life more fun!
Feb 26, 2024
Top Recs from @kkolbrich
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There’s just something really energizing knowing that me, Megan Fox, and the Late Elizabeth II share something moderately specific.
🌞Taurus
🌜Leo
✨Capricorn
Mar 4, 2025
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You don’t need to suffer to prove that you’re a good person. You don’t have to stay with the job that makes you question yourself and you don’t have to keep dating that person you’re not quite clicking with. If something feels off then it probably is. I’m not advocating for immediately abandoning your responsibilities and throwing caution to the wind; but in our hearts we know when something is working and when it isn’t.
That thing called intuition is your soul, and you can trust it.
Dec 31, 2024
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I’m tired of jumping through hoops and reframing my mounting dread everyday as ‘an opportunity to make a change‘. I’m tired of thinking that only if I tried harder, or was better or did something different that I would have a better outcome. At what point do you stop trying to jam the same puzzle piece in the same spot and say,
“Hmm maybe this doesn’t fit!”
Am I quitting trying to be an ever optimizing and improving version of myself? Maybe. OR have I successfully gotten what I wanted out of this experience and can peacefully move on without remorse?
I think in 2025 I’m going to start choosing the latter.
Dec 18, 2024