A Snowball’s Chance

Eaten enough Andy’s to give you cramps? Give other sweet treats a try.

If you’re concerned about the growing circumference of your thighs but not the worsening condition of your rotten teeth, the simple dessert combination of syrup and ice can be a welcome alternative to that ubiquitous ice cream. Growing up in Springfield, it meant a lot of Sno-Biz, with their sickly Tiger Eye and the assortment of other unnatural flavor combinations. But that isn’t your only choice, and some of us are older than 21 now—I’ll get to that later. Here’s a rundown of some local favorites and some of the unsung options at each:

Pineapple Whip: Supreme Overlord of Snack Kiosks

Okay, so there’s no shortage of press on this Springfield mainstay with the surreal robotic dancing Lolita. But no one ever seems to mention the stand’s other flavor, the neglected little brother Grape Whip ($1.75). Since it’s the only other option, we figured it was worth a shot. Meh. We remembered that Grape is just one step above Orange in the artificial flavor hierarchy. Best stick with the namesake.

Dippin Dots: Creepy, Freeze-Dried Ice Cream of the Future

For some reason, you can get this supposedly healthier ice cream out of vending machines, or at the mall ($2 for a small). In honor of Gay Pride Month, I tried the Rainbow flavor (har-har). It didn’t turn out too hot. As with jellybeans, I refuse to accept that a color is a palatable flavor.

Tropical Liqueurs: Booze in a Slushie, Best Enjoyed by a Kum n’ Go Dumpster

Surprisingly, when I suggested this to my grown-up buddies, they had never heard of it. It’s pretty basic: a shaved ice syrup bomb with grain alcohol. But Tropical Liqueurs (420 S. Campbell Ave., 417-832-9067) doesn’t stop at a simple bum cocktail—the flavors get pretty weird. On name alone I went for the ’57 Chevy. I don’t know why it’s called that, it was just cherry flavoring. It was a pretty good bang for my buck, though ($3.50 for a small, $5.75 for a medium) once you get past the horrible brain freeze.

GO’s Suggestions for Springfield Sno-Cone Flavors

The John Q. Hammons Mandatory Sno-Cone: An ungainly four-foot tall edifice bearing a passing resemblance to the Ozarks patriarch, haphazardly carved from a block of virgin Arctic ice. Neither functional nor fun to eat. Enjoy or face the consequences.

The Heer’s Raspberry Cheer: We know you don’t have room for it, but go ahead and open wide! It’s not done yet, but we expect it’ll be ready sometime after the Apocalypse.

The Springfield Lardinal: So what if it’s just a bag of rendered fat and deep-fried candy bars? Down here at the farm club we know how to do dessert right. Up in St. Louis they try to make the best desserts all healthy, or just trade away all the pitching and then complain about it.