Ice Cream Confidential

Welcome to the fountain, where we measure our days in empty ice cream buckets! We typically go through about 12 to 15 3-gallon buckets a day, although on a scorcher we might use up 20 or more. And now that I’ve been here almost three whole months, I can let you in on some of the secret knowledge that only ice cream scoopers know.

First of all, there’s technique. My sister worked at the very first Ben & Jerry’s in Burlington, VT, in the 1980’s and she taught me the invaluable technique of scraping down the sides of your buckets. For reasons that I can’t quite verbalize, scraping down the buckets gives you an edge for your scoop that makes it much easier than trying to use the scooper to dig through rock hard ice cream. And you want to keep your wrist locked in position when you scoop, so that you’re using your whole arm. In fact, you’re using your whole body, as my sore intercostal muscles let me know on a regular basis. So typically people will scoop for an hour and then trade off with someone on the register or the hot food section. We also like to give big, generous scoops–really, the biggest I’ve seen anywhere–so that your basic waffle cone looks well-rounded and piled high with delicious ice cream. It took a while to get the “art of the scoop” but as you’ll see below, my technique is now impeccable and I can scoop just as well with my left hand as I can with my right.

But what’s way more interesting than scooping ice cream is hearing what people have to say about it. The fountain opens at 9am every day, and we are definitely selling ice cream to someone by 9:15. And we really don’t stop until we close at 5pm, or sometimes a little later if we have a long line at closing time. Unlike most other shops I’ve been in around here, we have the largest selection and some really great flavors. Starting with my personal favorite, Peanut Butter Chip, which is vanilla ice cream with swirls of real peanut butter and chocolate shavings. Not too sweet, and I never get tired of it. Also, as I was recently informed by a customer, some people with nut allergies can actually eat this because peanuts are apparently not really a nut, they’re a legume. Although you’re really taking your chances eating ice cream from a factory that uses nuts in their other products.

Other favorite flavors include Mint Chocolate Chip (self-explanatory), Maple Nut (for the over-50 crowd, as one customer told me), and Pistachio. Interestingly, I find that our most popular flavor, Huckleberry Fudge (huckleberry-flavored ice cream with a fudge ribbon), is kind of over-rated, as is Mountain Berry. I spend at least an hour each day explaining the difference between Huckleberry Fudge and Mountain Berry: Huckleberries taste more like blueberries, whereas Mountain Berry is made with marionberries (no, not the former mayor of DC who was convicted of smoking crack in the 90’s–these berries are native to Oregon) and tastes more like raspberry. And then there’s Just Peachy. People want to know what’s in it. Believe it or not, it’s just peaches.

But there’s something for everyone in the ice cream case. Aside from the Huckleberry/Mountain Berry crowd, people like all kinds of flavors and combinations of flavors (if you get two scoops). Little girls between about ages 4-10 love Strawberry because it’s pink but are willing to eat Strawberry Cheesecake when we’re out of plain Strawberry. Although the top seller for all kids under 10 is: ta da! Chocolate or Vanilla. Parents come in with their little ones, eager to thrill them with an ice cream treat, and are completely crestfallen when the kid announces that they want Chocolate or Vanilla. “Are you sure? Look at all these unique flavors!” Nope, the kid knows what they want and it’s Chocolate or Vanilla. This probably means that the parent will be eating the leftovers and is sick to death of the same old thing. The one notable exception to this pattern seems to be among Indian or Pakistani families, where almost everyone wants Vanilla and those who don’t are happy with Pistachio. European families, on the other hand, order all kinds of flavors but are universally appalled by how big our scoops are. People will stop me in mid-scoop, saying “But I just wanted a single scoop!” Actually, lots of people do this, but the only people who have actually made me stop and put some back in the bucket are from European countries. Americans protest pretty weakly, if at all, unless they have a small child and they don’t want them to be on a sugar high for the rest of the afternoon. And people love our floats: we do a traditional root beer float but our store manager also invented the Mountain Berry Float, which is Mountain Berry ice cream floating in a glass of Starry lemon-lime soda. The one disappointment for many folks is that we don’t serve milkshakes. I’ve been tempted to tell people that our milkshakes were bringing too many boys to the yard, but so far I’ve managed to hold my tongue.

Tips are also a fun part of this job! We have a tip jar by the register, which brings in a few dollars a day, along with some super-fun novelty items. I just received the plastic Jesuses today, from someone who said her name was also Nancy, wouldn’t you just know? And we sometimes get coins from other lands. But the origami ring that a guy in my line folded for me is really a classic. I think this means we’re going steady, but don’t tell Rob. This is the Ice Cream Confidential, after all! And the $2 bill arrived the same day that we decided to put out a one-off bucket of Peppermint Stick ice cream, my mom’s favorite! My mom also loved collecting $2 bills, so I’m pretty sure that was her day to pay me a visit from the great beyond.

My Secret Life of Meats

Along with the ice cream, my life now suddenly revolves around making sure my meats are well-stocked at all times. I’ve started coming in early, sometimes before my shift even begins, to get the steamers and rollers started so that people can have hot dogs and bison brats the minute we open. Because some of those folks have been up since 4am looking for wildlife and they’ve worked up an appetite! Chili dogs usually have to wait until at least 10am, as the chili is the slowest thing on our menu to heat up.

But when I’m not scooping ice cream or running the cash register, my life is a continuous circuit of cured meats. It never ceases to amaze me that I put so much care into serving up menu items that I won’t even eat, but I like to make sure I’m giving people good-quality stuff! We keep the brats in the steamers and the hot dogs on the rollers, and we try to keep a steady stream of both coming from the extra steamers in the back room. We have to get them up to 165 degrees before we can sell them, and there’s really an art to making sure you have enough stocked so that you don’t run out during a busy lunch hour. My coworker Joanna has her own system of rotating hot dogs on the rollers that I don’t fully understand yet. But I really enjoy watching her rack up her rolling abacus of meats!

Breaking my ankle has put a bit of a wrench in this whole routine, as I now spend most of my day working the cash register, perched on a stool I found in the rec room since I’m not very mobile. I did do a little scooping this morning, but spent the afternoon on the register so as not to over-do it. But I’m still the first one there in the morning, managing the meat and getting us ready for the day! And of course I can’t wait until I’m up and about again, running the meats and scooping more ice cream. Which should be happening before we wrap up for the year at the end of September. We’ll see!

By far, though, the most fun part of my day is when I get to have conversations with folks at the register. Mostly banter, but I really enjoy asking little kids whether they’ve seen a bear yet and watching their faces light up. “Yeah! We saw two yesterday and one today!” This seems to bring a whiny child around in no time, and parents sometimes give me a smile of fatigue, relief, I don’t know what, as I get their kid to talk about something they’re excited about. I also occasionally get to speak my little smattering of French, German, and now Spanish (gracias, Héctor!) Sometimes a group of tourists comes to the register and tells me their English is not so good. Well guess what, my attempt to speak their language is no better but we’re both always delighted at the attempt. One time a German family was asking me about various menu items. I haven’t spoken German since college but a few words remain. They wanted to know what a bison brat was. And I was only too happy to tell them, “Es ist wie ein Bratwurst!” Like dude, are you just baiting me? That’s straight out of your cultural lexicon! Mostly, though, we’re both relieved that I can still count so I can tell them the price in their language. But as you can see, there are endless opportunities to have fun, even when you’re pretty much immobilized. And determined to have a good time, which I still am.