An Ode to Life à la Mode

When it comes to ice cream, my childhood was idyllic—perhaps because my dad loved ice cream so much, or because we were a family that had nothing but good things to say about sugar. Whatever the reason, ice cream was a nightly pleasure—a couple of bedtime scoops with Hershey’s chocolate sauce.

We lived within a short drive of the University of Maryland dairy, where milk from cows tended by the agriculture students got churned into ice cream. It was sold out of a long, low building, on a long, green hill. Easy fans slowly moved the air, and a wooden screen door banged with summer satisfaction every time an ice cream-seeking family walked in.

Co-op Kiddo Hideo (Lisa) enjoying a chocolate ice cream cone.

Heading west instead of east, our Chevy ended up in Langley Park, where Weile’s ice cream parlor sat in a ‘50s strip mall. Weile’s was for special occasions—elementary school graduation, family birthdays. It was an old-fashioned soda fountain with a twist. Eric Weile liked things big, and he traded unabashedly on his proximity to D.C. The Washington Monument came in a giant mixing bowl—ten scoops of brightly colored ice cream, topped with puffs of pastel whipped cream, sprinkles, and competing sauces, all accompanied by a fistful of long-handled spoons. Even the kid-sized dishes were special: I still have the small, red plastic cowgirl boot that my hot fudge sundae came in, little parasol askew on top.

And then of course, there was the ice cream truck, which jingled curbside in our neighborhood each summer afternoon, prompting a race to scoop up nickels and dimes and another slamming of screen doors. In my house, ice cream after lunch did not preclude ice cream after dinner. Ice cream was just a colder, happier iteration of the milk that we were supposed to drink at every meal. My childhood sensitivity to lactose went unnoticed for a long time. And thank goodness for that—the ice cream idyll was worth the stomach aches.

What IS it about ice cream and summer? I’ve been thinking why some of us are made so happy by ice cream. There are of course, the memories—ice cream memories tend to feel carefree and sun-dappled.

Then, too, ice cream is just a wonderful base for almost any flavor you can imagine. Unlike the subtle flavors of cake or truffles, ice cream flavors—vanilla, peach, caramel, peanut butter, pistachio, lemon, salted caramel, coconut—marry the creamy base and come to the fore. You may not like every flavor of ice cream (no thanks, amaretto), but you can rarely fault an ice cream for being overwhelmed by the taste of milk.

And perhaps, there is the simple fact of ice cream’s transitory nature—an absolutely Zen example of impermanence—a hard and bite-able cold that is icy enough to seize the brain, slowly becoming softer and meltier and messier. Still delicious, but urgent in its insistence on being enjoyed.

Strawberry sorbet from the Co-op

Finally, ice cream seems not just connected in our minds with season (those long summer days), but with comfortable places: the lazy fan-stirred breeze of the Maryland dairy; the rump-polished red leather booths of Weile’s; my spot on my childhood couch, bowl in hand, Lassie on the TV.

And, of course, the Co-op.

A brief, personally skewed history of ice cream at the Co-op: in the summer of 1981, I was one of three paid employees at the Pine Street store. I didn’t have many remarkable accomplishments, but I do remember advocating for, and finding a supplier to bring us, eight pints of Häagen-Dazs every week. This was an act of self-preservation—there was nowhere to get Häagen-Dazs quality ice cream in the Valley at that time, and I wanted some.

After that, over the blur of decades, the Co-op ice cream section grew and thrived, and then, in 2010, we started making our own ice cream and scooping out of the Deli.

Lisa Gilden, the Co-op’s Prepared Foods Director, remembers then General Manager Todd Wood’s devotion to the ice cream project, “Making ice cream in-house was one of Todd's dreams. His obsession with recipes, with sheets he’d torn from various magazines—so many piles in his office, THEN in my office! —were the origins of most of our ‘fun/creative’ flavors like Date Cardamom, Fig-n-Fennel, and the ill-fated Bacon Bliss.”

Co-op kiddos, Novella and Saylor (Amy) doubling up on deliciousness!

To my taste buds, making our own ice cream was a landmark moment in Co-op history, fulfilling an unspoken part of our mission statement: “To make people just a little bit happier.”

Lisa tells us that “by far,” Vanilla is the Co-op’s best seller, “We spin an average of 21 gallons per week of just Vanilla. Our next best seller is Cookies-n-Cream, with an average of nine gallons per week, which we keep as a staple flavor. As far as a seasonal flavor favorite, Candy Cane Ice Cream comes to mind. Perhaps because it is MY favorite. I have been known to eat an entire pint on my drive home. Anything that is swirled with caramel (which we, of course, make in-house) also does well—Coffee Salted Caramel, Chocolate Peanut Butter Caramel...”

Lisa adds that we go through about 105 gallons per week during our peak season, in spring and summer. Fresh, local ingredients, and ingredients handcrafted at the Co-op, are a hallmark.

Each season brings its own specialty ice cream flavors to the Co-op. July ushers in Strawberry Balsamic Basil, juicy with local, organic berries from Hedlin Farms. August will feature Lavender. Peanut Brittle and Jam, with in-house brittle from our bakery and in-house jam from those Hedlin berries, will sweetly echo back-to-school PB&J lunches in September. Sometime in September, we will also see fan favorite Blueberry Mascarpone, with local, organic berries. 

Co-op kiddo Seren (Nancylee) keeping his eye on the prize.

Asked what makes our ice cream a real treat, Lisa replied, “Our small-batch, artisanal process makes our ice cream truly special. Our ice cream is another avenue for us to showcase and support what we do in the Makery with our in-house talent and skill. Our Bakery Manager, Alex, holds up the integrity of our product by adhering to the original recipes when it makes sense and adjusting when needed to accommodate availability or ensure consistency. By using only the cleanest of ingredients (for example, we use chlorophyll to give color to our Pistachio ice cream) and utilizing local farms and vendors for those ingredients, our ice cream program is an inspired way for us to extend our desire to provide quality and fun to our customers.”

This summer, we mark the 40th year of July’s designation as National Ice Cream Month, which sounds like a good excuse for a cone. Depending on the source consulted, Americans average four to five gallons of ice cream each per year. They are bested by New Zealanders, who enjoy 7.5 gallons each per year—so in this Olympic year, if you are feeling competitive, you know what sport you might take up.  I know a good place you can go to play.

Written by Bev Faxon for the July 2024 Natural Enquirer