GUYS I did a thing! I actually went out and did a thing & participated in culture, yada, blah, et cetera. But for real: yesterday, I went to the Museum of Ice Cream, & I am not kidding you…it was amazing.
To be plainly honest, I had pretty darn high expectations. I mean, I’ve experienced my fair share of LA pop-ups in my twenty-three years living in this city, & really they’ve all been quite decent. So I went in to this museum of food & art (my two most favourite things in the world) already sure of its greatness as a pinnacle of high LA culture (plz tell me you read that with at least a little bit of sarcasm, but not totally? thnks.).
To kick off the venture…….we were late. Our damn uber pool fellow needed to be dropped off at frickin’ ikea. IKEA. So needless to say, when we got back on the five, it was jammed. But LA peeps know this, & the fifteen-year-old museum guide at the door waved her wrist with ease & said ‘Pfft. You’re good, girl.”
So we waited in line in front of the highly-noticeable cotton candy pink building in the middle of goddamn downtown LA (Mateo & 7th), & waited our turn. Upon entrance, we were immediately instructed to stick our hands into a vat of chocolate candies #mydream & enter through the pink door…….into a room with pink rotary phones (& for any of you readers under ninety, it’s those below)!
the phones of yester-year.
We progressed, & ate so much. Honestly, I was full by the time we left, & I couldn’t finish my In-n-Out #travesty. The first room, dubbed ‘Venice Cream,’ instigated the piling us with ice cream situation. We were given the daily sample, which yesterday was from Santa Barbara’s McConnell’s. It was an earl grey ice cream with shortbread cookies, & it was one of the best things I’ve ever tasted. No joke.
We then progressed onto the banana room, with the set of swings that’s in everyone’s boomerang videos, which I obviously also posted to insta, because this museum was built for consistent insta-ing. BUT THEN THE MINT ROOM. We were serenaded into the room by the tale of the Ancient Greek roots of mint, how some god was dating Persephone but was lowkey obsessed with a nymph named Mynthe (say that five times fast), but Pers turned her into a plant because she was jealz, & when the god found her amongst the identical plants, he laced her with the scent of mint so that he could always come back to her. And then they gave us mint chocolate chip mochi & I was in heaven.
Other rooms on the way to the only one that mattered included a sherbet room, an all white ice cream accessory wall, a gummy bear room (in which I learned that gummy bears originate from Germany…who knew!?!?), a popsicle room,
drip but don’t touch
Abel Benton’s melted cone wall (in which we received a sample of charcoal cookie dough
charcoal cookie dough on a fucking cone
WHICH WAS UNBELIEVABLY DELICIOUS LET ME TELL YOU), & then finally…to the main event: the sprinkle pool.
Now, I’m not generally a very fun person, so I was not expecting to get into the sprinkle pool all too much. But boy was I fundamentally wrong about the sprinkle pool. You get 2-3 minutes in the pool, & we were hoarded in with a bunch of whiny pre-teens who actually spent the entire time cussing, rather than enjoying the goddamn moment. But whatevz, they’ll learn one day. Anywhooooo. THIS IS THE MAGICAL & WONDERFUL LAND THAT IS THE SPRINKLE POOL:
enjoy it. love it. throw shit. never regret it.
We jumped & played & threw & loved every second of those 2-3 minutes of it. I cannot express to you a) how long those 2-3 minutes felt, b) how much child-like wonder I felt, & c) how many sprinkles fell out of my clothes for the rest of the night. (PSA: those sprinkles are not real. They are fake. They are plastic. Do not be a loser & eat them. You will be sad. Although that was great for me, since I’m allergic to real sprinkles. Okay. PSA over.).
And then we come to an end. The next room is the gift shop/lounge/exit situation, BUT they do give you pancake ice cream sandwiches, which were honest to god so delicious I cannot. There was also a fabulous neon sign under which I took an insta, & that ice cream sandwich swing that you see all over the internet. Then we made our exit, took an uber pool back home, but were in this awkward minivan situation with a Danish couple who gave our driver the wrong address & then started yelling at him in Danish. It was odd. But sure.
Moral of the story: GO TO THE MUSEUM OF ICE CREAM. They just extended their stay in LA for another month, so go get those tickets! It is absolutely worth it, if not worth your weight in ice cream & your self-esteem in instas.
everyone sucks except you 