Sadie's Essay on Blizzards.

This is an essay Sadie did for college a while back, I believe. I've had saved in an email for a while, but it pretty much describes our love for the delightful brownie batter blizzards.


The Misadventures of Hungry Sisters

Ice cream. Oh how I love thee. I am pretty sure that it is in my genetic makeup to be addicted to this delightful, creamy, sugary, oh-so-fattening treat. For instance, life can’t go on for my Papaw Bob if a week goes by that he does not drink a huge, hand-spun chocolate milkshake from Tony’s. A few years ago, on a family vacation, my younger sister ate a cone of chocolate and vanilla swirl ice cream every morning for breakfast. My daddy’s parents are both diabetic, which could have been caused by many occurrences, but I personally think they are diabetic because they eat ice cream as if it were good for them. When my family gets together in the summer, whether it is the Fourth of July or just a random Saturday afternoon, it must involve homemade ice cream. Everyone in my family is required to own a homemade ice cream machine and bring it filled to the brim to family events so that we can have an ice cream buffet. Chocolate, vanilla, rocky road, peach. The possibilities are endless. I could not fathom my life without it. Thank goodness I am not lactose intolerant.

And this brings me to my tale. One boring summer afternoon in July of 2004, Jamie, my seventeen year old sister, and I were watching the Golden Girls like we did every day at 11:00am. As we were watching, a commercial appeared on the television that involved a woman standing in her kitchen stirring up a bowl of brownie batter. In walked her husband who could not keep his fingers out of the batter bowl. He decided to take the mixer from his wife’s hands, and stuck his tongue on the beater to lick the batter. Next, the mixer turned on, causing his tongue to get stuck between the beaters. “Oh my gosh, that looks like something we’d do” laughed Jamie. I agreed and we both wondered what this amusing commercial was advertising. Then, a voice (which in my personal opinion could quite possibly have been the voice of God) said “Don’t let this happen to you, go to Dairy Queen NOW and get a Brownie Batter Blizzard!” Then, they showed a picture of the ice cream treat that was being advertised, and I could hear the sounds of a choir singing “Alleluia!” in my head.

I was dumbfounded. Brownie batter, brownie chunks, and ice cream mixed together into one concoction? This was the greatest creation I had ever heard of in my entire life. I knew I had to have this treat of chocolate decadence in my mouth as soon as possible. Jamie, still sitting beside of me, was also in complete shock. As soon as we could bring ourselves back into reality after this nearly religious experience, Jamie and I and ran out of the house, got into my car, and set off for Dairy Queen.

We decided that Gastonia would be our destination of choice for this momentous event. The Dairy Queen in Gastonia was our favorite location, because the exterior of the building looked as if it were straight out of the 1950s. The roof was blue with white stripes, and the posters were charming, containing pictures of old Dairy Queen cartoon advertisements. There wasn’t room to go inside of the restaurant; instead, customers would walk up to the window from outside, order their food, and sit on the street corner to enjoy their ice cream. We both loved the nostalgic atmosphere this Dairy Queen created.

We arrived at Dairy Queen and were very excited (and even a bit anxious) about finally being able to gorge ourselves in ice cream bliss. I went up to the window to order first, and proudly told the cashier girl that I would like one small Brownie Batter Blizzard. She looked back at me and smiled and said “Oh, honey, I’m sorry, but we don’t have any brownie batter. I can make you one with just brownie chunks.” I thought to myself, “Just brownie chunks? Are you kidding me?” This just would not satisfy my needs. I politely asked the cashier to cancel my order and sadly, walked back to the car. Jamie followed closely behind. This incident caused an aura of sadness in the hearts of both Jamie and myself. But, Jamie reminded me that there was another Dairy Queen location in the mall, which was only a few miles away. I dreaded the thought of going into that busy mall, but I knew that the ending result of immersing myself in ice cream would be worth the hassle of fighting off the crowds. So, with our morale raised once again, we departed for the mall.
After making our way through the parking deck and hordes of people, we found our selves at the Dairy Queen. This time, I ordered two small Brownie Batter Blizzards, one for Jamie, and one for me. I handed the cashier my money, which she gladly took, and did not tell me any bad news of not having brownie batter like the previous cashier did. We waited patiently while she created our Blizzards. She finally handed us our freshly crafted Brownie Batter Blizzards (and even placed the spoon in the middle and turned them upside down like they do on the commercials). Jamie and I must have looked like two St. Bernard dogs, we were drooling so badly at the sight of the ice cream.

At the same time, Jamie and I took our red spoons and dug into the heart of our cups. We both took two huge bites, and instantly looked at each other in a disappointing manner upon pulling the spoons out of our mouths. Something was terribly, horribly wrong. There were no brownie chunks in either one of our Blizzards. Without any words spoken between the two of us, I took both of our cups back to the counter and asked the lady where the brownie chunks were. She then proceeded to tell me that they were out. “Are you serious?” I asked her. She replied that yes, she was serious, and also added that they have not had any brownie chunks for a week. I asked her why she did not tell me this fact before I spent my money on the Blizzards, and she just responded with a simple “I don’t know.” At this point, I was beginning to become irate, but civilly asked for my money back. With our spirits low and our heads bowed lower, Jamie and I walked back to the car.

By this point, we were ready to give up. But, Jamie pulled through in the clutch once more and reminded me that there was a Dairy Queen in Dallas, which would be right on our way back to Lincolnton from Gastonia. However, I knew that if we showed up to this location, and they could not make us a Brownie Batter Blizzard that met our expectations, we would both become very disheartened. We looked up the phone number and called the Dallas Dairy Queen. When I asked the guy on the other end of the phone line the million dollar question of whether or not they had Brownie Batter Blizzards, he gave me the wrong answer. He told me no.
Jamie and I were out of options (or so we thought), and were still ravenous for our Blizzards. I suggested that we just give up and go back home. But, for the final time, Jamie had a brilliant idea. She told me to call Dairy Queen of Belmont. Belmont was only about a ten minute drive from the mall, and I was willing to make that drive if I could receive the ice cream treat I desperately needed. I found the phone number for the Belmont Dairy Queen. Nervously, I dialed the number. A man answered the phone and I apprehensively asked him “Do you have Brownie Batter Blizzards with brownie chunks AND brownie batter?” To my shock, the voice on the other end of the line said “Yes! We do have Brownie Batter Blizzards!” I thanked the Dairy Queen man, hung up the phone, put my car in drive and bolted out of the mall parking lot.

I drove that car like my life depended on it. What was supposed to be a ten minute drive only took about six and a half. As soon as we arrived at the Belmont Dairy Queen, Jamie and I both jumped out of the car, ran inside, walked up to the counter, and placed our order. I told the lady working that I wanted the biggest Brownie Batter Blizzard they had to offer. Jamie told her the same thing. We stood there and watched the Blizzard artist create our masterpieces. When she brought us our cups, they were not filled to the top, and she asked us if we wanted more. Of course we wanted more! We had trekked many miles and endured a lot of distress to reach this holy grail of ice cream. She graciously filled up our cups with more ice cream, more brownie chunks, and most importantly, that runny, gooey, brownie batter that makes me almost salivate right now just thinking about it. Jamie and I went and sat in a booth and with those infamous red spoons in hand once again, we finally tasted the most scrumptious food we had ever eaten in our lives.
I could taste the brownie batter within the ice cream and it reminded me of when my mom used to make brownies, and Jamie and I would nearly wrestle each other to the ground to see who would get to lick the bowl. The man in the booth beside of us kept giving us strange looks while we were eating, probably because after every bite we would make odd sounds like “Mmmm.” “ohhhhhh man.” “YUMMMMMMMM.” We couldn’t help it. We ate every last bite of our Brownie Batter Blizzards, and Jamie even went to the extent tearing her cup apart and licking the inside. It was just that good.

Jamie and I left Belmont in a state of euphoria. Nothing would ever compare to what we just experienced in that Dairy Queen restaurant. This moment was also the beginning of a new Carpenter family ice cream tradition. For the rest of the summer, Jamie and I would venture out to the Belmont Dairy Queen every week to pay homage to our ice cream adventure. We would both order two large Brownie Batter Blizzards, sit in the same corner booth that we sat in the first time, and indulge ourselves in brownie batter bliss.




MORAL OF THE STORY: DAIRY QUEEN NEEDS TO BRING BACK BROWNIE BATTER BLIZZARDS. (i will be very dismayed if i never get to partake in this goodness again in my life)- Jamie