Baskin Robbins "31" Ice Cream Shops: A Realistic View

I've yet to encounter a "customer review" of Baskin Robbins that directly criticizes the ice cream's nutritional shortcomings and potential harmfulness. If only for that reason, perhaps this review will prove exceptional. But I suspect there will be still other reasons.

You see, one of my earliest jobs during my teens involved Baskin Robbins. As a result, I know somewhat more about creating BR treats than does the average consumer, which is ironic, considering I've only sporadically set foot in a BR shop since quitting that job 35 years ago. And on those infrequent occasions that I revisit my erstwhile haunts, I'm generally impressed with how modestly BR's frozen offerings have evolved after so many years.

Having savored my first BR ice cream cone at age nine in 1963, I subsequently toiled part-time at that same BR shop as a soda jerk (no wisecracks, please) from 1970 through part of 1973. Only a well experienced and devilishly inventive BR professional--repeatedly left unsupervised to do as he liked behind the counter (not to mention the back room)--knows how to create officially verboten, "supercharged" BR concoctions so sensually exquisite that each indulgence is akin to a gustatory orgasm.

Let's face it, picking the "best" ice cream is purely a matter of personal taste; and I realize there are noteworthy competing ice cream franchises (e.g., Ben & Jerry's and Haagen Dazs). But to my palate BR's best flavors will always collectively constitute the world's ultimate ice cream, assuming that the word "best"--in this context--signifies "the most intensely deliciously gratifying" ice cream cones (or bowls of ice cream); shakes and malts; and sundaes.

Why do I consider B&R's ice cream superior? Obviously not because it's nutritionally superior--perish the thought! Nay, it's simply that B&R's best flavors affect me as being the most richly laden with yummy butterfat, sugar, and countless other "cut-no-corners", taste-tantalizing ingredients.

Ah, but I might as well try explaining why I'd prefer one femme fatale in lieu of another. Regarding ladies and ice cream, there's ultimately no "rational" accounting for personal taste.

I'll share several of my favorite "supercharged" versions of BR concoctions below. But I'd be remiss not to mention what I do not like about Baskin Robbins.

First, their prices are outrageous. For example, a single four-ounce scoop of ice cream (on a cone or in a bowl) costs $2.19 in my Kansas City suburb (and--for all I know--perhaps even more in New York City). Of course, one measly four-ounce scoop isn't really enough to slake the lust of your average BR addict; two scoops always seemed necessary to me. The cost for two modest scoops is a whopping $3.79. Nowadays there are "grocery-grade" ice creams that beat anything available back in the sixties and seventies; and I've now and again seen a half gallon of such stuff on sale for less than the cost of one teensy BR scoop!

Prices are comparably exorbitant for BR's other treats, including their sundaes and shakes (or malts). For example, shakes come in small, medium (regular) and large sizes. And a "medium" shake costs $3.89.

Admittedly, if you factor the overall consumer price index (i.e., inflation), BR's current prices are scarcely higher than they were when I was a high school punk, which is to say they've always been relatively ridiculous. Perhaps today's prices merely seem worse to my baby-boomer sensibilities.

But what could prove even costlier to your bottom line (not to mention your waistline) are the effects that consuming so much saturated fat, cholesterol, and sugar could eventually wreak upon your health.

To cite one fairly typical example, a single-scoop cone of BR's Peanut Butter 'n Chocolate ice cream contains 320 calories, 180 of which are from fat. "Total Fat" equals 20 grams, which is 31% of the commonly recommended daily value. There are 9 grams of saturated fat, which is a whopping 45% of the recommended daily value. Consumption of saturated fat engenders the production of high "LDL"--i.e., "bad"--cholesterol in your arteries. Speaking of which, that single scoop additionally already contains 45 milligrams of cholesterol (14% of the recommended daily value). Not surprisingly, it also contains 28 grams of (presumably "refined", i.e., "manmade") fat-producing sugar. If you have two scoops (and how could you not?!), you'll pretty much max out on your daily allowance for (LDL-cholesterol-producing) saturated fat, and you'll simultaneously be nearly a third of the way toward the RDV for "dietary" cholesterol.

Certain other "classic" BR ice cream flavors have marginally less saturated fat, cholesterol and sugar, while still other flavors might have marginally more; but only BR's so-called "Light Side" flavors have significantly lower amounts of those "bad" substances; and "lighter" is a distinctly relative term. For example, two modest scoops of one such BR "light" flavor--Espresso 'n Cream--still contain 360 calories; 16% of the RDV for saturated fat; and 58 grams of sugar. In any case, BR's selection of "Light Side" flavors is conspicuously limited, and I seriously wonder what percentage of BR's regular clientele actually consumes such relatively humdrum "light" ice cream!

Only if you've heard BR co-founder Irv Robbins' son John Robbins himself reveal one or more of his family's tacit "taboos" can you begin to surmise the darkest secret within his father's and uncle's [brothers-in-law Irv Robbins and Burt Baskin's] ice cream empire, which they founded in 1945 in Glendale, California. Well, on second thought, you probably did see John Robbins speak at modest length in Morgan Spurlock's 2004 documentary film, Supersize Me, in which he explained that "Uncle Burt" had been overweight and had died of heart failure at age 51 (reportedly, the actual age was 54, but methinks the younger Robbins' essential point still stands). But have you also listened to John Robbins speak more recently as the featured guest on Dr. Joel Fuhrman's radio show (04/11/07)? In case you care to check it out, here's how. (Otherwise, skip ahead.) First, enter the following URL into your web browser:

drfuhrman.com/voiceamerica/nutritional_wisdom.htm

Then scroll downward to see the "Listen To Past Shows" options within a pane. Scrolling downward within that pane, find and select the radio show dated 04/11/07 ("'Healthy to 100: Achieving a Long Healthy Life' with guest John Robbins".) Allow plenty of time for it to download such that you can listen via your computer. John Robbins' remarks pertaining specifically to his BR "family heritage" occur not quite halfway through the hour-long radio show, and you can position the audio-playback indicator accordingly.

In any case, here's the part of that audio interview that I find most especially intriguing; John Robbins relates the gist of a conversation he'd had at age 21 with his father about whether ice cream consumption had contributed to Burt Baskin's untimely demise:

"When he died, I asked my dad, 'Do you think there could be a connection between the amount of ice cream my uncle would eat and his fatal heart attack?' And my father looked at me, and his gaze was implacable; and he said, 'No! His ticker just got tired and stopped working.' And I realized I'd confronted a taboo. I'd actually come into contact with something very deep in our family, which was 'You don't talk about that!'"

My favorite BR flavors.

Here's a "shortlist" (!) of my favorite BR flavors (in no particular order): Jamoca Almond Fudge (not to mention "plain" Jamoca ice cream for making shakes/malts); Strawberry Cheesecake; Pralines 'n Cream; Rum Raisin; Peanut Butter 'n Chocolate; Mint Chocolate Chip; Nutty Coconut; Pistachio Almond; German Chocolate Cake; Pumpkin Pie; Black Walnut; Egg Nog; and Licorice. However, there are so many other excellent flavors (some only available seasonally) that time and space don't allow me to do justice to all of them. Note that all of these ice cream flavors are likewise excellent for making milkshakes or malts.

Examples of my favored "supercharged" versions of BR treats:

I wish that the past 37 years had left my erstwhile soda-jerk-era memories fully intact; there are various rare and exquisite concoctions whose details I can't quite recall. Nonetheless, below are several of the utterly unforgettable shakes and malts (not to mention sundaes) that I repeatedly relished while working--er, slacking--in the BR shop.

Mind, in order to experience some of these concoctions yourself, you'll have to get lucky. Unless you yourself work in a BR shop or "know" someone who does, you must encounter a BR "jerk" fully willing to accommodate your special requests to the nth degree. (Anything less just won't cut it!)

"Supercharged" shakes and malts:

Rather than always settling for "mere" milkshakes, I often strongly prefer adding extra richness and flavor via BR's genuine malt powder (as opposed some competitors' pathetically liquefied "malt" syrup); but there are exceptions (i.e., some ice cream flavors are less compatible with the taste of malt).

"Supercharged" Mint Chocolate Chip shake. "My" version tastes even more intensely minty than the usual, with greatly enhanced richness and smoothness. First, a higher than usual ratio of (Mint Chocolate Chip) ice cream to milk is necessary to intensify the mint flavor. An equally significant enhancement to taste and texture is the addition of a generous dollop of "marshmallow sauce"--i.e., the sticky, fluffy, white topping that normally adorns the scoop of chocolate ice cream in BR's standard banana split [which concoction, incidentally, always underwhelmed me, albeit BR's canned pineapple topping--used to top the scoop of strawberry ice cream--is the very best of its ilk]. Also, at least two additional squirts of BR's clear "simple syrup" is necessary to intensify sweetness. chocolate syrup might work nicely in this shake, too, albeit I myself never/seldom did that, preferring instead to behold the nice light-green color with the countless tiny specks of blended chocolate chips.]

"Supercharged" Pumpkin Pie shake. [This flavor is generally "seasonally" available.] Insist on a higher concentration of ice cream to milk. Insist on at least two squirts of "simple syrup". OPTIONAL: A dollop of "marshmallow topping" thoroughly mixed into the shake. The finished shake has a somewhat unusual "light-pumpkin" color!

"Supercharged" Licorice shake. [This flavor is generally "seasonally" available.] Insist on a higher concentration of ice cream to milk. Insist on at least two squirts of "simple syrup". OPTIONAL: A dollop of "marshmallow topping" thoroughly mixed into the shake. The finished shake has an unusual "gray" color!

"Supercharged" Egg Nog shake. [This flavor is generally "seasonally" available.] Insist on a higher concentration of ice cream to milk. Insist on at least two squirts of "simple syrup". OPTIONAL: A small dollop of "marshmallow topping" thoroughly mixed into the shake. And perhaps a spoonful of malt powder. Finally, if the shop happens to have any nutmeg powder, go for it; otherwise, consider adding a bit of nutmeg yourself!

"Supercharged" Rum Raisin malt. [This flavor is generally or periodically available.] Insist on a higher concentration of ice cream to milk. Insist on at least two squirts of "simple" and/or coffee-flavored syrup. Two or more spoonfuls of malt powder. OPTIONAL: Perhaps a small dollop of marshmallow sauce thoroughly mixed in.

"Supercharged" Nutty Coconut malt. Insist on a higher concentration of ice cream to milk. Insist on two or more squirts of "simple syrup". Insist on two, three or more spoonfuls of malt powder. OPTIONAL: A squirt of chocolate or coffee syrup.

"Supercharged" Jamoca malt. If I could only have one flavor of BR malt, this would be it. Ditto the above instructions, except the "simple syrup" should be replaced by several quirts of coffee-flavored syrup (and no chocolate syrup is needed, unless you want to dilute the ultra-intense "coffee" flavor).
OPTIONAL: You could substitute Jamoca Almond Fudge ice cream (instead of BR's "plain" Jamoca ice cream). Likewise optional is the addition of a small dollop of marshmallow sauce.

"Supercharged" sundaes:

As for sundaes, perhaps I needn't say so much, for you could surely devise your own intensely flavorful variations on BR's conventional themes. The first key is to get totally away from humdrum vanilla, chocolate and strawberry ice cream scoops by substituting more powerfully intense ice cream flavors; for me, the latter would include Jamoca Almond Fudge, Nutty Coconut, Pistachio Almond Fudge, Strawberry Cheesecake, Peanut Butter 'n Chocolate, and Pralines n' Cream. And be sure to opt for whichever toppings most intensely delight your taste buds. To my taste, hot fudge, chocolate, and coffee syrups could be used singly or in combination. If you relish pineapple topping, BR's is among the best available. [By contrast, their strawberry topping is nothing out of the ordinary.] Their soft-and-sticky marshmallow topping is good, albeit I ironically prefer it as a key (or merely optional) ingredient in several the aforementioned shakes/malts instead of on sundaes.

Regardless of which topping(s) you prefer, try to get your scoops in an "oversized" paper cup such that much more than the usual amount of topping(s) can be added. While eating your sundae, you shouldn't run out of topping before you run out of ice cream! To me, the combination of deluxe nuts with massive amounts of hot fudge and/or chocolate syrup was a given for all BR sundaes. Accordingly, I'd tend to choose nut-containing ice cream flavors featuring plenty of almonds, pecans and/or cashews.

Finally (and optionally), if you favor "mere" peanuts (atop ice cream) more than I do--consider having your hot fudge or chocolate sundae's uppermost syrup virtually hidden beneath an ultra-thick layer of chopped peanuts. Don't settle for just one or two spoonfuls!

A bit of "BR snobbery":

In 1970 when I was sixteen, I'd become a well versed soda jerk who imagined he knew a thing or two about which BR commodities were "boring" and which were "sophisticated". For example, I felt sheer disdain for that wayward tributary of "lowly" BR customers who routinely ordered a scoop of vanilla (or ordinary chocolate or strawberry) ice cream on a yellow "cake" cone. First, it offended my cultivated sensibilities to stoop to scooping mere vanilla in the domain of "31 flavors". Second, I couldn't fathom why anyone would come to Baskin Robbins only to opt for a bland cake cone. Didn't they realize tasty sugar cones were de rigueur? Cake cones connoted "soft-serve" ice cream from the likes of Dairy Queen, for Gawd's sake!

I felt comparable disdain toward any customer who ordered a conventional chocolate shake (i.e., vanilla ice cream blended with a little chocolate syrup and milk). Nonetheless, such unimaginative clientele ironically constituted a highly significant portion of BR's business. And my understanding is that that perplexing situation remains in effect today. Go figure!

Further musings about Baskin Robbins.

Though BR in more recent years has moderately differed in a number of respects (including modernized, three-dimensional, more colorful shop-decor details and menu listings) from the establishment I frequented in the sixties and early seventies, on balance it hasn't changed quite so much as it's remained the same. Factoring nearly four decades of inflation, today's exorbitant prices are, at most, only modestly higher than they were back then--which is to say they're still outrageous.

Whereas the predominantly "brown-and-pink" BR shop at which I toiled in the early seventies only provided a rudimentary row of classroom-style desks for seating customers, ensuing decades and other stores introduced somewhat more colorful (and varying) decor and seating configurations. While many BR shops nowadays do include improved seating capacity and furniture, generally a BR shop is still modestly sized and is a place I'd feel less compelled to visit for its ambiance than for its edible products per se.

What has dramatically changed since the sixties and early seventies is the availability of competing "premium" supermarket ice cream flavors that put to shame what we settled for from the neighborhood grocer of my youth. In fact, a noteworthy few of today's supermarket flavors are, to my sensibilities, so reasonably "close" to BR's average fare that--given the very substantial difference in price--the gustatory difference between BR ice cream and "supermarket" ice cream doesn't seem quite so extreme anymore.

That said, I'll grant that I've still not encountered any widely available equivalents to several of my favorite BR ice cream flavors. Perhaps that's just as well, given that the combination of inherently intense flavor with lower cost would constitute yet another edible temptation that we all can do without. Perhaps one of these years BR's corporate management will finally relent and emulate Ben & Jerry's and Haagen Dazs by selling their ice cream in supermarkets. I wonder how much cheaper BR ice cream would thusly become? And I wonder how many--if any--of their traditional shops would thereafter be able to remain profitable? [I recall that it was already an unrelenting struggle (back in early seventies) for the owner of the BR shop where I worked to net more than a modest profit. The first such owner finally sold out while I was still employed there; and the second owner reportedly likewise made his unhappy exit a few years thereafter.]

Admittedly (and perhaps inevitably), modest nutritional modifications have been made to BR's menu since I worked there decades ago. For one thing, the aforementioned "Light Side" ice cream flavors were subsequently introduced. And some decades-old "rotating" flavors have been retired as others have appeared.

Nonetheless, such flavors as Jamoca Almond Fudge, Pralines n' Cream and Mint Chocolate Chip have remained perennial favorites. You can still get basically the same sorts of sundaes and shakes as what I used to dispense to the average customer.

And even the current "pinkish and blue" logo doesn't seem too striking a departure from BR's original "pink and brown" established in 1953. And why should it? BR's long successful business formula is clearly a case of "if it ain't broke, don't fix it". (Maybe tweak it, but don't fix it.)

Until enough consumers start to take seriously the long-term effects that routine consumption of fatty and sugary "foods" may have on health, such ice cream purveyors as Baskin Robbins will be pleased to pander to prevailing demand.

If nutrition and rational pricing are of little concern, then by all means rush right out to your nearest BR store and indulge to your, er, heart's content. Ice cream--in all its compellingly addictive manifestations--could scarcely get any yummier.