I Scream, You Scream

I know summer is on its way the first time I hear the jingle-jangle tune of the ice cream truck poking down our street.
Every time I hear ihe singsong chime, I can't help but pause to listen for kids shouting "THE ICE CREAM MAN!" like my brother and I did so many years ago.
These days, I'm too big to sprint outside to catch the ice cream man —after all. what if he's younger than me? I've graduated to the ice cream shop—an entirely different but equally decadent experience.
No matter where you stroll for ice cream on a warm summer day. it's hard to go wrong. But each shop offers something unique.
There's the old-fashioned sit-down ice cream parlor that looks as if it hasn't been redecorated in 50 years. It's the one with pink vinyl booths where you can spoon down a sundae leisurely even as it melts into a sticky mess on your plate. Or the small neighborhood shop where neighbors savor scoops of Rocky Road while swapping stories of morning soccer games.
In San Francisco, a tiny, unassuming shop makes up for its lack ol seats with unusual fruity flavors such as avocado and langka, a melon-like fruit from the Philippines.
The only rule that applies to all: don't even think about dieting.
"Do you have any low-fat?" Dorothy Fambrough asked on a recent evening at Fentons Creamery in Oakland.
They didn't. Oh. well.
"I worked out for three hours anyway," Fambrough said.
Like many Fentons customers.
Fambrough, who's in her 40s, has been coming to the East Bay institution since she was a kid. "I come here because I like peppermint." she said.
After reaching for her cup of bright pink ice cream, Fambrough realized she was short on cash.
Not to worry. Accepting credit cards is one of the few changes owner Scott Whidden has made since taking over Fentons 17 vears ago.
Whidden also added comfy red booths, bringing the total seating to 110. And he concocted new flavors, including CCAC—creamy caramel almond crunch—in honor of the 75th anniversary of California College of Arts and Crafts in 1989.
Part of the fun of going to Fentons is watching fellow sweet-tooths tackle their enormous banana splits, ice cream-covered brownies and the ever-popular gooey black-and-tan sundaes. Fentons brings together "people of all economic classes, all persuasions sitting next to each other." says Whidden. who estimates that 30 to 40 percent of customers are from outside the area.
"They either lived here at one time and moved to Nebraska and are back visiting family, or it's someone local says, 'You got to see the Golden Gate Bridge, Alcatraz and this ice cream parlor.'"
Another draw is Fentons' ice cream plant. The shop makes all its ice cream in its Piedmont Avenue building, whose big front windows give the place a fish bowl look. Through a window in back. customers can watch the ice cream being made.
"The fact that it's made on the premises adds the magic." Whidden says. "I'd say we'd be out of business if we didn't."
CREAM OF THE CROP... Unlike many other companies, Whidden says, Fentons uses a slow-pasteurization process to create a creamier, custard-like texture. While others shoot the temperature ultra-high in 30 seconds. Fentons takes 30 minutes.
Fentons also makes its own thick chocolate sauces and prides itself on using fresh ingredients. Whidden says.
"We try to go from the cow to your mouth in under a week. We're talking fresh cream."