Coldstone Creamery
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I can think of few things less appealing. I’ve eaten a lot of mix-in ice cream over the past year, a task that has seemed increasingly penitential as it progressed. I ordered simple French vanilla from Cold Stone; from Maggie Moo’s, a concoction called Better Batter Cake Carnival (cake batter ice cream, Twix bars, cookies and fudge); both were unfinishable. Whereas a visit to Ben and Jerry’s or Häagen-Dazs leaves me wanting more, a visit to Cold Stone leaves me wanting a salad and a shower.
Taken from What happened to plain old vanilla?
I have to admit that I’ve visited the local Coldstone Creamery a couple of times and kind of enjoyed the ice cream, but hated the store. I’m really a DQ sort of guy1. I like to be able to go in, get my ice cream and get out. At Coldstone that game plan does not work as well due to the staff singing their bloody songs and trying to make being in the store as pleasing as eating the product. Unfortunately for them it just does not work; especially as it does not distract me from how large a price they’re charging for their ice cream.
1 Actually, I am a Ben & Jerry’s fan but they do not have any scoop shops in my area. So I settle for DQ as being cheap, quick and tasty.
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About Mark McKibben
Mark works as a [REDACTED] for [REDACTED], currently residing in Iowa. CoffeeBear.net is a place for him to blather on about whatever strikes his fancy. He currently spends his "free" time working on a photography project, playing with his cat and attempting to keep his wife happy (not necessarily in that order).
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May 17th, 2007 at 11:43 am
Amen.
Denise and I are *not* fans of Coldstone. Aside from hearing the unenthusiastic droning of “Today Is Your Birthday” three or four times while in the store, we had a specific scary experience with Coldstone that left us … cold, I guess.
It was 90 degrees, we just finished eating at the Ghengis Grill with friends from out of town, and we got some Coldstone in a cup. We sat around and chatted in the swelter, nibbling on our Coldstones, since our friends were going to take off and drive directly home.
An *hour* of chatting later, I realize that there’s something wrong with my chocolatish goo. Aside from the fact that we must not have been enthusiastic about eating it if it was an hour later and we had some left, there was this point: it hadn’t really melted. Did I mention it was 90 degrees? For an hour?
We threw it away and swore off the scary non-ice-cream stuff.