BLOG: Snowball Season

The phone rang a familiar tune so I knew it was family calling.

“Hello.”               

“NaNa, can I come and spend the night?”  asked my six-year-old grandson.
               
“Sure.”
               
“I really want a snowball.”  “Oh”, I thought, ”Does he want to see me or is the main reason for his visit a snowball?”  I said, of course, ”Come.”
              
Pasadena without a doubt has the best snowballs. Even at the age of two, my grandchildren could recognize snowball stands, with their familiar wooden rectangular shape though maybe painted different colors. My six year old, who is just starting to read, is a little overwhelmed with the list of flavors.  He  decides on chocolate with marshmallow on top and in the middle too. However, he has learned that the marshmallow on top of chocolate tends to melt and does not look as appetizing as the marshmallow on top of sky blue, another favorite.
              
We gather on my deck and use the plastic spoon to crush any large pieces of ice that may have formed from the car ride home. We wait to see who has the first brain freeze because that person could not resist eating fast.  If we eat inside in the AC, it is not as enjoyable because we find ourselves getting colder with each bite.  Nothing beats this refreshing ice on a hot night, relaxing and taking pleasure in each spoonful.  It’s a treat that is inexpensive and one that makes you slow down.

My sister, who is from Baltimore and resides in Florida, times her visits with the snowball stand.  She suffers from withdrawal from her favorite egg custard without marshmallow.  Lately she is in luck even if she visits in October because of the extended snowball season. 

My friends from the UK who hate ice tea and our sickly sweet desserts want snowballs.  When they come, we make a trip every night to the snowball stand so they may try out a different flavor.  This is very odd behavior for people who drink hot tea in the summer to get cool. Snowballs must have enticing super powers.
              
My grandchildren live in St. Mary’s County, which does not have snowballs.  So the phone rings a lot asking if they can come for a visit. They toy with the idea of opening up their own stand when they become teens.  They have even priced the machines, very expensive.  I have looked to see how far snowballs have moved geographically from Baltimore.  They are not obvious south of Pasadena.  Yet we have three on Mountain Road. 
              
So where have they originated? Having grown up in Baltimore, they were part of our summer and we were always walking to the neighborhood snowball stand.  My father related that as a youngster, he would follow the horse drawn ice wagon making deliveries to the icebox, later replaced by an electric refrigerator.

The ice came from a Curtis Bay ice house in 100 pound blocks. In the winter boats would travel to New England and cut ice from the lakes and store it in sawdust and straw to keep it from melting on the journey to Maryland. The iceman would shave ice off the large blocks for the children who would then flavor it with egg, vanilla, and sugar for an egg custard treat. 

Since children sought this concoction, the ice man soon drove his horse cart through the neighborhoods in the summer. He would shave the ice at your doorstep, snowballs, and he offered orange, cherry, and strawberry flavors in a cone shaped paper cup. With the invention of the ice-shaving machine, the business flourished. In the depression they were known as the “the hard-times sundae.” Later they were sold in local drugstores at the soda fountains for a nickel with marshmallow, an extra penny.  

A few states have slush cups or snow cones, but they are nothing like our snowballs.  They are a local treat to be savored by Denas.