It doesn’t really matter anymore, it’s been over 33 years, I think I can tell you this story without getting in trouble…
My first job was at Blatz folded Ice Cream in Palo Alto, right off California Avenue by the train station. It was a busy spot! I made waffle cones from scratch, whipped up malts and shakes extraordinaire and created the most insane ice cream balls ever which were expertly flattened, filled and folded with the likes of: chopped peanut butter cups, gummy worms, chocolate chips, quartered peppermint patties — literally any candy or candy bar you can imagine!
Blatz was a teen hangout. A mecca of hair bears, creepers, topsiders and skull boots not to mention neon fishnet gloves, jelly bracelets and parents who, having gone through the 60’s and 70’s, were trying to identify with their edgy teenagers. This was the place to be if you were a kid and if you lived in South Palo Alto, fer sure.
Blatz was a good ten years before Cold Stones – just in case you’re wondering – so yeah, the whole folded ice cream thing? I’m pretty sure we invented it first.
And Blatz was the flagship store in a brand spanking new 1980’s mega condominium complex, a pale pink stuccoed sky rise with dark forest green metal windows and agapantha landscaping everywhere — it was a champagne sherbet future through and through. More on the champagne sherbet in a bit…
My hourly rate was $4.15 an hour. Can you imagine? There was nothing then that you could buy for that amount and nothing now but, the cool thing about waaaaay back when, was ‘The Trade’. Oh yes, we would trade a pint of ice cream with the super cute boys who worked at Round Table pizza down the street (and yeah, my husband also worked for Round Table, but we didn’t know each other then) or we’d trade for a few orders of delicious house-made pot stickers and crispy deep fried spring rolls from Mr. Cho’s teeny tiny Dim Sum take-away shop. Yes, there were a lot of perks to working in an ice cream shop. Trading was not the only upside, more on that in a bit too…
I became very good very quickly at handling multiple customers at the same time while continuously replenishing our chopped candy supplies and making waffle cups and cones. In fact, I became so good that the owners decided to give me, a fourteen year old kid, the key to the store. I solely took over the afternoon shifts (after school of course) and my Mom would pick me up at closing time and after her work. I traded for dinner along the Avenue which was fun.
She wasn’t exactly happy that my new job had replaced my extracurricular activities, but she was proud of me nonetheless and for a single Mom who taught elementary school in the day and went to night school for her Masters, I’m sure it bought her just a little extra time to get ahead.
I was in heaven. Is there a kid that doesn’t love candy, ice cream, milk shakes, floats, malts and more? I mean is there a single kid on this planet that doesn’t like those things??!?!
We had incredible ice cream. Some of my favorite flavors were the thick and tangy Blueberry Cheesecake, the exotic Black Cherry with real chunks of dark red fruit, Butter Brickle (Amy Carter’s fav – and we all grew up wanting to be her and live in the White House) and the rich and eggy French Vanilla with real little vanilla bean seeds (a novelty back then). My least favorite was the disgusting sickly sweet ever popular toothpaste colored Gumball flavor. Has anyone ever had a good chew from a frozen gumball? No. Don’t even try to pretend. Just no.
My Mom had a weakness for anything malted and I would often have a chocolate malt shake ready for her upon pick-up. She was so skinny anyways. And beautiful. My Mom was stunning – she looked like Snow White with her black hair and green eyes and she was the only person I’ve ever known who literally could not keep weight on. Her doctor actually prescribed milkshakes with malt. Yes! Fer real! Unfortunately I had quite the opposite problem as a tween. Nonetheless, she really loved those shakes and I liked making them for her.
Malt addicts are their own peculiar little sub-section. They really are. Anybody that’s worked in an ice cream shop will understand what I’m talking about. Malt lovers don’t necessarily like ice cream, but if you add malt to it their eyes glaze over and they go into a trance while inhaling their treat. If you happen to be out of malt, they skip dessert entirely. So weird.
Soft orange, cool green, lilac purple, cherry pink and snowy white sherbets were the most beautiful frozen delights in the cold case. The kids mostly opted for Rainbow Sherbet, a perfect tie-n-dye swirl of all the fashionable colors of the ’80’s and the adults liked the sparkling pale pink French Champagne sherbet. It was my favorite too. It was so pretty, so ethereal and delicate. No, I did not get drunk off of it, that’s not the funny part of this story, but it did make me feel grown-up. I think I must have eaten quite a bit of it because the owners put a stop to us “tasting” that one.
When I was a little kid in the 70’s, way before my parents got divorced, my Mom used to throw big dinner parties. People would eat and drink and dance in their bell bottoms and silky tops and us little kids would baby bop all around in our velour little outfits. It was fun. Sometimes my Mom would do lavish sit-down coursed meals and in between plates she would pass out tiny little cones topped with miniature scoops of Champagne sherbet or Pineapple sherbet as a palette cleanser. I remember thinking that was just the most swish thing ever. Yes “swish“, that was my Mom’s way of saying “cool“.
The owner at first was reluctant to let me sculpt my cones given the hot waffle press but he quickly just handed the whole responsibility over to me. I wish I could remember our recipe but alas, I have retained my waffle cone muscle memory but not the actual ingredient list. For those considering buying a professional waffle press – don’t – waaaay too expensive, I whipped up hundreds of cones on a single store-bought cheap electric press and they were perfect. I use a Chef’s Choice single press now and I love it.
I enjoyed making waffle cones immensely. I took great pride in my creations. Whether rolling my waffle cookie into a cone or pressing it into a flower shaped bowl, I thought it was sooooo fun! And the smell of waffle batter cooking was heavenly and instantly uplifting – sort of in the way coffee is for me now, waffle batter was for me then.
But all good things must come to end and my time at Blatz sadly ended abruptly as does this story too. I had begun to work the weekends with an older girl. She must have been in college or a High School senior. I can’t really remember now but I do recall that she really liked to party and she really liked to trade with the Round Table boys and she really liked to disappear for half her shift and she also really liked to take whippets in the small broom closet.
I wouldn’t say that I was her manager, but I was entrusted with the slush fund so that I could buy anything we might need on the fly from the grocery store across the way. And there was no adult oversight here — none. I didn’t understand at first why all of our whipped cream bottles just oozed sticky liquid instead of stacking fun swirls on sundaes. One Saturday I probably made 4 trips to the store for more cans of whipped cream.
You know where this is headed don’t you…
So I finally asked her: “What are you doing in the closet with all the whipped cream cans? I can hear you doing something?” She looked at me and laughed, gave me a can, told me to go the closet and put my mouth straight over it and inhale all the air coming out. Of course I did. Of course it was fun. Of course we bought more whipped cream cans. I mean, thank goodness, it wasn’t the cartridge loaded real whippets!
This went on for a few weekends. I didn’t do it during the week – only with her. And I didn’t know how bad it was for the ‘ol brain cells but I did know we shouldn’t be doing it, that much was obvious. You would think one of the owners would have noticed the endless whipped cream receipts and say something, but no.
I finally told my Mom about it after one Saturday shift thinking that she would find it funny. She did not. I got into a lot of trouble.
And that my friends, was the end of my very first job scooping ice cream, making waffle cones and creating the most insane ice cream balls ever which were expertly flattened, filled and folded into pure perfection!
Note to Self: Delete this post before Layla turns fourteen.
Now for the chocolate waffle cone recipe. Full disclosure, this recipe is not mine. This is one of the suggestions that comes with the Chef’s Choice 838 waffle cone express. It’s super easy. And it’s super good! Just measure and mix and pour the batter onto the un-greased press! We paired these cones with our Meyer Lemon ice cream and it was perfect! We also melted some chocolate in the microwave and dipped our cones in it and added sprinkles for fun… no whipped cream…
For the Meyer Lemon Ice Cream: https://www.amyglaze.com/meyer-lemon-ice-cream/
Ingredients
- 1 ounce unsweetened chocolate (Hershey's will do)
- 2 tablespoons butter
- 2 whole eggs
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 cup granulated sugar
- 1/2 cup sifted all-purpose flour
- 2 tablespoons Dutch processed cocoa powder
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
This recipe is adapted from the Chef's Choice 838 Waffle Cone Maker book.
Preheat the waffle press. Place the chocolate and butter in a small saucepan and melt over low heat. Stir to combine then set aside to cool.
Stir the eggs and salt together with a whisk until blended. Add the sugar and blend using a hand mixer, until it is incorporated and the mixture has lightened in color, about 1 minute. On low speed, blend in the chocolate/butter mixture. Add the flour and cocoa powder and slowly beat until the dry ingredients are moistened, then beat on high for 15 seconds to incorporate and remove all lumps. Mix in the vanilla.
Spoon 3 tablespoons (1 1/2 ounces) of batter in the center or slightly above the center of the iron. Close the lid and lock the latch, bake for 1 minute and check for the proper color.
Quickly remove the waffle onto a clean cloth towel. Us teh cloth to help lift and roll the waffle around the cone dowel and hold the cone for a few seconds to set its shape. Then place cone in a holder of some sort (cone holder or glass) or on a wire rack to cool.
