Buddy's (rock and) Rolled Ice Cream is a sweet treat

Like a lot of you, when I was a kid, my small-town ice cream shop closed up for the winter. Those white-smeared windows would appear, looking so desolate and barren, and I would know that the cold, soft ice cream was done until next year. For me, when those windows were scraped clear and the sugary wonders behind revealed once again, that was the true start of summer. The first trip of the summer to the ice cream shop was a big deal, a true treat. There are so many memories on that small strip of street with ice cream on one side and a quiet green park on the other. For instance, I remember vividly the feel of the first soft-serve cone of the year in my hand as I crossed the street with my dad to the park, waiting until I crossed to take that first lick. And I remember the heartbreak and anguish a couple of seconds later when the top of my cone ended up in the road. It makes me smile now, but ice cream was serious business then.

At Buddy's Rolled Ice Cream, ice cream is still serious business, and I truly believe there are many memories to be made here. With the crisp brightness of an old-fashioned ice cream parlor, Buddy's manages to look modern and fresh with whimsical artwork of pets on the walls. Take a moment to take a look at them. I dare you to not smile.

Perfect sugary rose buds of ice creams, rolled fresh at Buddy's Rolled Ice Cream.Submitted by Rebecca LaClair

I am confident in saying that this is the freshest ice cream in Cape Girardeau. Your server mixes and freezes your ice cream right in front of you, and, if you will forgive my pun, in the coolest way. It starts with a small cup of liquid ice cream poured across a bitingly cold metal plate. Then the add-ins you have chosen are put into the cream, and your ice cream artist will start to quickly chop all the ingredients with putty knives. I chose the Salty Dog with caramel and pretzels. My husband ordered a banana pudding-based creation, and the maker threw a whole half a banana into his. With one knife in each hand, my ice cream artist chopped and spread, chopped and spread with all of the gusto of a Japanese sous-chef until all the ingredients were one creamy half-frozen lump. Then she spread it into a perfect rectangle, about 15 inches long and a foot wide, and very very thin. This is when the final freeze happens. Immediately after working the ice cream into this flat sheet, she drizzled a generous amount of caramel on top and began at the edges of the sheet with the putty knife, levering it under the sheet and rolling it into five identical and tightly shaped rolls. She stood the rolls up in the bowl and they looked like delicious little rose buds. Then she added whipped cream, more caramel, and a salty pretzel to the top.

Before even tasting this, I took a moment to appreciate how beautiful this ice cream was. Simple, fresh, with real ingredients that you can see added and chopped. My ice cream artist turned food into something geometrically pleasing, and the "art expert" in me appreciated the effort.

How did it taste? My Salty Dog was cold, sweet and salty, everything I want in a salted caramel taste and more. The ice cream itself was very sweet, and although it was frozen hard, the thinness of the ice cream rolls made it melt in my mouth quickly. I could taste and feel the teeny tiny pretzel pieces, still crunchy. That caramel that she drizzled on top right at the end before rolling now filled the core of each roll, a cold liquid burst of caramel that reminded me of biting into a caramel-stuffed candy bar. This is a lot of ice cream in one pretty little package, and by the end, I left feeling like I'd had enough and a little more.

My husband's banana pudding tasted of vanilla wafers and that real banana flavor that can't be replicated. Fresh and fruity, this is a sure win for all banana pudding lovers.

The little touches at Buddy's make everything a little more magical, all the way down to the cold-sensitive color-changing spoons. Visit them at 610 Whitelaw Ave. in Cape Girardeau and make your own memories.