[march 21 2011] - Amy's Ice Cream
This is the story of the time I ate Amy's Ice Cream for the first time and walked away with one less button.
After 3.42 miles of walking around Austin, I knew it was time to check off another food-must-taste from the Austin Culinary Experiences list that Victorio made in my agenda.
Amy's Ice Cream on 6th was just a 1.2 mile walk from the Texas State Capital where I had been occupying myself by clogging in the center of the rotunda.
One look around the shop was enough to know that this was a place deeply loved by the citizens of Austin. I knew this because there were hula hoops by the door. Hula hoops equate to Austin Love.
The list of flavours overwhelmed me. Each time I would try and process what a flavour would taste like, there would be some sort of ka-chunk-flooping going on by the, oi, who are they? They can't just be employees, can they?
This establishment clearly had a heavy emphasis on customer relations in addition to passion for their product.
"I've got you," said the boy behind the counter.
And I still didn't know.
And somehow Bruce Lee came up and he pulled out his Bruce Lee tag necklace.
I realized he had to come to Seattle to visit the grave because nothing is more fun than a good ol' grave tour (the last one I was on was with Borges, Charlie Chaplin, and Audrey Hepburn).
The two employees (ahh! I hate that term) started to educate me about this ice cream. It was "ultra premium." It wasn't just ultra ice cream, this was a step above premium ice cream.
From my research, it seems that ultra premium relates highly to the percent of butterfat content. So, now I know I was learning that this ice cream was, essentially, really butter-fatty. In this case, 14%. For the Seattleites who want a comparison, our Molly Moon's has 15-19%. To just be called ice cream, a frozen milk desert is required to have at least 10%.
Mid sentence, the girl behind the counter grabbed a sample spoon and scooped up some Mexican Vanilla for me to try. That answered any question I had. This stuff was good. Really good.
Charles recommended Oreos as a mix-in, I took the recommendation, and he got to work.
My ice cream was everywhere.
My respect was high.
Dude. My ice cream was up and then down and then behind the back and in the bowl. I've never eaten ice cream that's flown through the air before....
I walked over to the register (5 paces) where I was asked how I would pay.
"Can I pay in buttons?"
"Depends on the buttons."
I pulled out my coin purse of buttons.
Apparently they met Charles' approval. He let me pay with the button.
He then scribbled down his name on a piece of paper and handed it to me.
My biggest regret from that day is I totally forgot to tip. Really bad move on my part. But, without my wallet out, it didn't occur to me. Oi. Not cool, Margaret, not cool. I think I can solve this problem, though.
The rest of the time, eating the ice cream, was incredible. I was in lovely company and my taste buds were excited. This was better than Friday. Ice cream get's me *pats heart* right there.
So that was my time at Amy's Ice Cream. The staff were engaging and turned this food exploration into an event and experience instead of just a time to taste. They were excessively personable to a comfortable level turning Amy's Ice Cream on 6th into more than just a food join but a community Zentrum.