Pining for summer snow balls in snow

By Kylie Jane Wakefield
Collegian Editor
March 21, 2007

Sometimes global warming isn’t so bad. Now, I know that’s a horrible thing to say, but who am I to complain when it’s 70 degrees in March? Last weeks warm weather (before the snow) after months of extreme cold and frequent snow makes me so deliriously happy, it’s hard to express in words. When the warmth starts to take over, my concerns become less important, and I can only focus on the imminent arrival of summer. What comes to mind is swimming in the ocean, spending time outside after 5:00 p.m. and delicious, delightfully scrumptious snowballs.

The term “snowball” is a bit of a colloquialism. To most people, it means rolling snow into a ball and hurling it at friends for fun. What I call a snowball is referred to by most of America as a “snow cone.” But where I come from, Baltimore, we call them snowballs. According to a group on Facebook, they are “a Marylander’s best friend.” I have no room to disagree.

When I was little, my family owned a snowball machine. The delicate art of snowball making was one of my many hobbies as a 6-year-old growing up in East Baltimore. It was a very complicated process. First, you’d have to lift a very heavy bag of ice, dump some of it into the machine, close the lid and turn it on. Then you’d place a cup under the machine and, ta-da, a snowball would slowly appear in your cup. Add flavored syrup and marshmallow, and you’ve got heaven in a cup.

My family and I made snowballs for neighborhood kids, and to this day it’s still one of my fondest childhood memories. As I grew up, I continued to consume snowballs at least once a week during the summertime. Bumblebees flew around the snowball stands, tormenting the workers and tasting the multitude of flavors. I’d wait in line for sometimes up to 20 minutes, just to satisfy my eagerly awaiting taste buds.

There are the standard flavors: cherry, skylight, lime, strawberry, grape and my favorite ever, egg custard. Egg custard doesn’t taste like eggs, but more like a sugary volcano of goodness erupting in your mouth with each bite you take. With fluff on top, it’s almost as rewarding as getting straight A’s, and slightly less rewarding than falling in love. Basically, a good snowball has the power to make you happy.

Snowball stands would always be coming up with new and unique flavors that usually had nothing to do with their actual taste. Once I tried a snowball flavor titled, “Britney Spears.” I don’t recall exactly what it was like, but I imagine it tasted like delicious mayhem. With every new celebrity or fad, a snowball flavor is born. This year, I expect to see possibly a Nintendo Wii or Grey’s Anatomy flavor. They will taste like trendiness, and I will only want my egg custard that much more.

Rita’s Italian ice is OK. Cold Stone Creamery ice cream is a fair competitor as well. But, in my eyes, snowballs are king. They are just as unhealthy, just as, if not more, sugary-sweet and they’re one of summer’s many joys.

To me, it’s about the tradition. When I bite into a snowball, I am not just reminded of how delicious the dessert is, but of my childhood and simpler times. It’s a reminder that sometimes you have to slow down and reflect, even if just for those 20 minutes it takes you to complete your treat.

I can’t wait for summer.

wakefieldk1@lasalle.edu