If reading about the Fab Fifties has given you an old-school appetite,
treat yourself to something sweet with these soda fountain recipes.
While they're not guaranteed to be truly authentic — after all, many
original soda fountain era formulations are as mysterious as they are
appealing — they're refreshingly simple and satisfying. There's even
some sweet history to come along the way. By the time you've whipped
up a few sundaes, ice cream floats, and an egg cream or three, you'll
be feeling like a world-class, educated soda jerk -- and that's
fifties for "love." Don't be surprised if, by the time you're done
reading, you find yourself hankering for your own slick chrome
countertop installation and secretly admiring the spotless curves of
some tall, beautiful, bell-shaped glasses. Not afraid to acquire an
always-sweet style? Then consider adding these items to your menu:
The Simple Soda:
Original fountain sodas, or phosphates, were a mixture of carbonated
water and flavored syrups — as simple as that, an easy way to begin
your soda jerk career, and unbeatable for creating a custom taste to
match your mood and preferences. To replicate the fifties beverage
with modern ingredients, use seltzer water or club soda and the type
of syrup used for ice cream topping or for mixing into coffee drinks.
(Some people have even used jam, but if you try it, remember that you
do it at the peril of losing your official soda jerk authenticity
badge ... or, just possibly, your fountain will become an instant
hit.) You may be able to find some "beverage syrup" locally, but if
you can't and you're determined, there's always the Internet ... and
that's one thing they couldn't say in the fifties.
To make your soda: mix 3 oz. of syrup to 10 oz. of seltzer water,
stir, and you're done. Add ice if desired.
Egg Cream:
The New York egg cream is a perennial easy favorite (at least if
you're in Brooklyn), as well as quick, creamy and luscious. Before you
stir one up, you should know: an egg cream contains neither. Some
theories suppose the name comes from the fact that the foam-topped
concoction is oh, so rich — like eggs and cream, often found in
high-quality desserts of the time. If you like ice cream floats or
chocolate milk, you'll likely enjoy egg creams ... and if you do,
remember to thank candy store owner Louis Auster, who, legend has it,
took the original recipe with him to his grave. But at least he
inspired some great spin-off recipes, of which this is one. It takes
longer to read than to make, and if you love 'em, it may take even
less time to drink!
Gather up:
Seltzer water or club soda
Chocolate syrup — dark chocolate is super! (And thin syrup is easier to
mix.)
Ice cold milk
A tall glass
A long spoon
Cover the bottom of your glass with a thick layer of chocolate syrup
(the richer, the better!), then fill the glass 3/4 full with seltzer
water. Top it off with enough milk to fill the glass, while stirring
vigorously. This creates the foam head and mixes the ingredients
together at the same time. (Don't stir so hard you break the glass,
or, if you're clever, use a plastic spoon to make the job easier.) If
you're a purist, seek out some Fox's U-Bet syrup and don't put it in
at the beginning. Instead, save it for last, drizzling it into the
drink while stirring gently, so as not to ruin the foam head. The
result will be a pristinely pure white foam over a dark brown bottom —
you can tell if you've added enough syrup by the color.
Hint: Try this with different flavored syrups for a more exotic egg
cream sensation!
Banana Split:
Everyone is familiar with the old-fashioned banana split, a sweet
treat so popular it's survived in the modern ice-cream-shop
repertoire. While you hunker down with a cold glass dish of ice cream,
meditate on the battle between Latrobe, Pennsylvania and Wilmington,
Ohio — both towns claim the honor of the banana split's invention.
Some sources say that David Strickler of Latrobe invented it in 1904
after visiting Atlantic City, where watching a soda jerk gave him the
grand vision to heap three scoops of ice cream on a halved banana,
then to top it all off with chocolate, marshmallow, nuts, whipped
cream, and a cherry. The original price? A slim dime. Strickler is
also credited with commissioning a local glass company to create a
long, narrow dish for the dessert — the first banana boat dish.
Other banana split fans put their money on Ernest Hazard of
Wilmington, who reputedly invented the dessert in 1907 in a fit of
inspiration (or possibly frustration) while attempting to attract
college students to his restaurant. The town of Wilmington certainly
believes in his claim, enough to hold an annual banana split festival
celebrating the inventor; but Latrobe's Elks Club defends its town's
claim by proudly displaying a banana split on its official pin.
Regardless of which is the true inventor, Walgreen's drug store chain
is credited with popularizing the banana split by adopting it as its
signature dessert.
Choose your own favorite with these two banana split variants created
in honor of the two claimants. If you can't decide, why not try
another round of ice cream? After all, no matter whose story you
believe, the banana split is universally delicious.
For a Strickler split, use a banana halved lengthwise, three scoops of
vanilla ice cream, chocolate syrup, marshmallow creme (or mini
marshmallows, or try making marshmallow sauce), whipped cream, crushed
or chopped nuts of your choice, and a maraschino cherry.
For a Hazard split, use a halved banana and three scoops of ice cream
(your choice of flavors) topped with whipped cream, sliced strawberries,
crushed nuts, shaved chocolate, and a maraschino cherry.
For those who'd rather not take sides, try a "classic" split, which is
all about matching: on a halved banana, place a scoop of chocolate, a
scoop of strawberry, and a scoop of vanilla ice cream in a row; then
top the chocolate ice cream with chocolate syrup, the strawberry ice
cream with strawberry topping, and the vanilla ice cream with
pineapple topping. Add whipped cream, then sprinkle with crushed nuts
and a perfect red maraschino cherry or three.
Ice Cream Sandwich:
No one really knows who invented the ice cream sandwich, but for all
its mysterious origins, it's a well-loved treat with a rainbow of
varieties, from the chocolate-covered Eskimo Pie to the rectangular,
paper-wrapped kind you can buy in the school lunch line. The first ice
cream sandwiches are said to have been made with "cake-like" chocolate
cookies, while a later San Francisco version used oatmeal cookies. The
chocolate chip cookie sandwich is actually a popular 1980's variant,
so for an authentic 50's sandwich, try using two large chocolate
cookies. Chewy or soft cookies make for less messy eating than crispy
cookies, but if mess floats your boat, use whatever you like!
Creating your own ice cream sandwiches is as easy as placing a small
scoop of ice cream on a cookie, then placing another cookie gently on
top. Homemade vanilla ice cream will bring you as close as you'll come
to revisiting the authentic soda fountain treat, but other flavors of
ice cream will give your dessert sandwich its own unique personality.
(Mint chocolate chip on chocolate cookies sounds like a cool treat for
a hot summer day, doesn't it?)
Ice Cream Float (or Ice Cream Soda)
The difference between an ice cream float and and ice cream soda may
be a matter of taste — or of technique. Regardless of how you name,
classify, and label your fizzy ice cream drinks, though, the soda
fountain originals were made not with sodas as the modern tongue knows
them, but instead with seltzer water and flavored syrups. Root beer,
ginger ale, and Coca-Cola, though, have a pretty long pedigree as far
as floats and sodas go, so go wild with 'em.
For those who really want to know, if you dispense the syrup and the
seltzer together at once, then add ice cream, you've made a float —
while if you mix the seltzer and syrup separately before adding the
ice cream, well, that's a soda. Seems it might be more logical the
other way around, but who needs logic when they've got ice cream?
And creativity, not logic, is the word of the day when mixing your own
sodas and floats, but if you need a place to get started, try classic
root beer and vanilla ice cream, or strawberry ice cream with seltzer
and strawberry syrup. How about vanilla syrup and seltzer with
chocolate ice cream, or chocolate syrup and seltzer with vanilla ice
cream? If you're feeling daring, you might try chocolate syrup,
seltzer, and strawberry ice cream — like a strawberry sundae in a
glass.
One soda-jerk-approved recipe for concocting great ice cream sodas
goes like this: put 2 tablespoons of syrup into a tall glass. Fill the
glass with seltzer or club soda, aiming for the center of the syrup
and stirring as you pour. Then add a large scoop of ice cream, letting
it roll down the side of the glass — watch out for the splash. If
you're in a hurry, of course, you can scoop the ice cream into your
glass first and pour the soda over. (It won't hurt your soda jerk
reputation too much if you don't _tell_ anyone you cheated.)
Milkshake or Malted Milkshake:
The word "milkshake" dates all the way back to 1885, when it
apparently referred to a concoction containing whiskey, and the
original _malted_ milkshake was designed for sick people and children.
In both cases, the early milkshake resembled an egg nog, and would
probably be unrecognizable to modern milkshake-lovers.
Thank goodness for Ivar Coulson, an employee at a Chicago Walgreen's
store: his clever addition of two scoops of ice cream to a malted milk
(that's milk, chocolate, and malt powder) made the new version of the
drink a mainstream hit, banishing the nutritious
milkshake-for-invalids forever.
One kitchen helper that will make your milkshakes appear lickety-split
quickly was actually invented specifically for blending shakes: that's
the blender. Stephen Poplawski invented it in 1922, and aren't we glad
he did? Before the blender and its ilk, the way to make a milkshake
was to literally shake it — place the ingredients into a well-sealed
container and shake, shake, shake the night away ... or at least until
your milkshake is good and frothy. You can still make a milkshake that
way today, or break out the blender and use it in good conscience,
just as Poplawski intended.
To make a classic milkshake, place four scoops of ice cream, 4
tablespoons of flavored syrup, and 1 1/2 cups of milk into a blender.
Blend until texture is smooth and color is even, and serve immediately
in tall glasses. Painless, except possibly if you're prone to ice
cream headaches.
For real, creamy, soda-fountain taste, use vanilla ice cream even when
making a chocolate shake (or a Brown Cow) — the chocolate flavor comes
from the syrup.
When making a vanilla shake (or a White Cow), 1 tablespoon of vanilla
extract may be substituted for syrup, and 1 teaspoon of vanilla
extract may also be added to a chocolate shake.
To make a strawberry shake, add a cup of sliced fresh strawberries.
For a malted shake, add 2 tablespoons of malted milk powder (always
plain, never flavored).
And for a double chocolate shake (especially popular malted, when it
was called out "Burn One All the Way" to the soda jerks on duty), use
chocolate ice cream instead of vanilla. A hint from soda jerk lingo —
Twist It, Choke It, and Make It Cackle — proves it wasn't uncommon to
add an egg to a chocolate malted.
The Sundae
This ice cream dessert is the master of all ice cream desserts — the
ever-popular, world-famous sundae. In its infinite variations and
hearty helpings, the sundae is an easy pleaser, any day. And speaking
of days, the origin of the sundae is thought to be directly related to
its namesake day: in one version of the story, around 1890 some
excitable religious types decided it was bad form to socialize at the
soda fountain on Sunday. (Likewise, it was bad form for kids to play
on swingsets, so the swings were chained up; it was even unholy to
read books! Excepting the Bible, of course.) The serving of ice cream
sodas — sacrilegiously full of sugar and bubbles, which were, ugh, fun
— was thus banned according to the "blue laws." In response, soda
fountain owners stopped serving the soda ... but kept serving the ice
cream, with the flavored syrup going on the ice cream instead of in
the soda water. So a clever way to disobey the law became one of the
most steadfastly enjoyed desserts in American history — how's that for
independent spirit?
At least, that's the Evanston, IL (or "Heavenston"-flavored) story —
and several other U.S. towns have staked their own claims as the
birthplace of the ice cream sundae. This pedigree is even more in
contention than the birthplace of the banana split! Well-known among
the other claimants are Ithaca, NY and Two Rivers, WI. The Ithaca
story features a drugstore owner named Chester Platt, who, one Sunday,
served up vanilla ice cream with cherry syrup and a maraschino cherry
to the Reverend John Scott. The dish was named after the day, and was
sold for 10 cents. That was in 1893, and there's documentation that
Chester Platt at least advertised his "Cherry Sunday" that year.
But Two Rivers, WI insists that its Ed Berners, a soda fountain owner,
started the sundae craze in 1881, when a customer named George
Hallauer requested flavored soda syrup on his dish of ice cream, and
Berners decided to keep the idea as a regular menu item, selling it
for just a nickel. Supposedly, competitor George Giffy of Manitowoc
served the same dish, but charged an extra five cents for the special
treat of added syrup — and both owners only served the treat as a
Sunday special. Some say this sundae story was invented by H.L.
Mencken, but according to the National Register of Historic Places,
Two Rivers is the spot.
There are still other clamors to claim the honor of first sundae:
Buffalo, NY says its Charley Stoddard invented it in a moment of
desperation when he ran out of soda water; Norfolk, VA's story sounds
suspiciously like Evanston's; and Plainfield, IL says a soda fountain
owner surnamed Sonntag invented it and named it after himself
("Sonntag" is "Sunday" in German).
Anyway, all that was long forgotten by the fifties, or at least
relegated to urban legend status. Whichever was the real birthplace of
the sundae, and whichever was the real story, each of them makes a
great tale to accompany the serving up of an undeniably special treat.
Take this adaptable recipe and go forth with sundae blessings!
You'll need:
A dish of some kind
Ice cream — your favorite flavor(s)
Whipped cream
At least one maraschino cherry
Other toppings of choice: nuts, chocolate fudge sauce, strawberry
sauce, strawberries, pineapples, shredded coconut, marshmallow creme
or marshmallows, or sprinkles!
And, of course, a spoon...
Mix it up however it pleases you — if there's any dessert that gives
you latitude to do as you like, it's the sundae! Some ideas to get you
started:
For a basic, old-school sundae, a scoop or two of ice cream with a
single sauce or topping is the very thing for a hot summer day.
For a touch of fifties class, stick two French wafers into the side of
your dish, or spoon your sundae creation over a lady finger sponge
cake.
For a modern twist on an old favorite, make your sundae with a brownie!
