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Message
TulaneLSU's Top 10 snoballs
Posted on 9/25/20 at 4:11 pm
Posted on 9/25/20 at 4:11 pm
Dear Friends,
When I think of things that are, as the late and great Frank Davis said, “Naturally New Orleans,” certain brands and family names come to mind. Rubenstein’s. M. Goldberg’s. Perlis. Galatoire’s. Antoine’s. Brennan’s. Leidenheimer. Brocato’s. Impastato’s. James H. Cohen & Sons, McKenzie’s. Copeland’s. Schwegmann's. Time Saver. Tastee. There are the institutions of New Orleans we also hold dearly: The Southern Yacht Club. The Boston, Louisiana, and Pickwick Clubs. Comus. Christmas in the Oaks. The New Orleans Athletic Club. The New Orleans Lawn and Tennis Club. Tally-Ho. Trinity. Christ Church Cathedral. NOMA. The Historic New Orleans Collection. Jesuit. Delgado. More broadly, we associate certain foods, holidays, and traditions with this wonderful city: Barq’s. Big Shot. Bud's. Beignets. Muffulettas, Mardi Gras. Monday red beans. King cakes. Front Day. Réveillon. Hot chocolate parties. Poorboys. Seafood boils. Streetcars. Snoballs.
It is only in the last 15 years that sno-balls have begun to receive attention as a quintessential aspect of both New Orleans’ culinary history as well as its social history. When Katrina scattered us to the four corners of the globe, we realized what was not in our new, temporary homes. These uncouth cities lacked a communal dessert culture. Sure, we could grab a cup of ice cream on the go or stop at Sonic and sit isolated in the car with our slush, entertained by the fisticuffs. Maybe you even tried a treat from an ice cream truck that came to you.
We were living the soulless life of Anytown, America. But as toothsome as those treats were they were also unsatisfyingly empty. The desserts themselves were, like Big Alcohol, mass produced without care for the individual and certainly without care for society. These desserts were missiles of anti-culture. Each time a projectile landed in our mouths, we felt it in our hearts. We knew we had to return.
Home is God and until we are united in that, the greatest of communities, we are restless. I believe God showers the Earth with condensed milk and honey-like syrup in certain spots to sustain us, like those ancient traveling Israelites. It just so happens God’s syrup bottle lingered over New Orleans a good bit longer than other patches of the world. Our sinking soils and cracked streets emanate that anointed, anti-miasmic sweetness, sticking this community together like syrupped fingers after a pothole jolts sweet sauce from your cup.
The sno-ball stand allows New Orleanians to be who we are and that is a social people. We see that character most clearly during Mardi Gras, but that season is just an intumescent expression of who we are. The Lutherans might call it our Gemeinshaftsgeist -- a spirit and culture that bends us from our birth and cradles us without our knowledge. I think of a snoball shed no more than 100 square feet in size that gave Fat City its name, a joy to toponymists. Of all American cities, New Orleans is the most social, and I argue that the sno-ball is our most social of foods.
Many associate sno-balls with a midday cooldown. It is true our family occasionally had these reprieves from the peak heat, but those were unusual. For the TulaneLSU family, sno-balls were an end of day digestif, a vespers of sorts. Both Sister and I had, for a few summers, ball games at Avenger Field, a name I, as a player, unsuccessfully campaigned to have changed. Ultimately, I quit baseball because I was in favor of Jesus’s command to forgive 70 times seven times. I simply could not play under the banner containing a bend sinister.
Unlike volleyball, I was an unaccomplished baseball player -- I only hit 112, as in 0.112%, and that was against pitching machines that did not throw curves. After my weekly humiliation -- I was individually blamed by Coach for more than one loss -- our teams and our family would often recreate at Williams Plum Street Snoballs. It was here that I learned to love snoballs. Teammates, Mother, and Uncle seemed to have a great time together while slowly slipping on their iced desserts. I was usually relegated to the curb, as no one wanted to talk to me, especially if I had dropped a flyball that cost us a chance at a trophy. Sitting alone on the curb, enjoying a plain ice snoball, as Mother insisted that I lose weight and sugar would not help, was at times tough. Still, I enjoyed watching everyone else share fellowship, knowing that amongst each other, they were accepted. To be accepted, loved, and caught up in the great cloud of witnesses, these are my hopes. What I saw as a child at Plum St, which achieved a score of 24, gave me a glimpse as to what these things look like.
There has never been a comprehensive history of the New Orleans sno-ball. The tradition of its origin usually putters with an uninteresting debate between Hansen's and SnoWizard. The debate reached a fever pitch in 1997, when The Times Picayune was the battleground. The arguments have since cooled, but descendants of the first two families of the sno-ball, the Ortolanos and the Hansens, continue to insist that their ancestors were the first to invent the machine and popularize the treat.
George Ortolano was a first generation American, raised not too far from the Mississippi River, whose parents, like many Sicilians, entered the grocery trade. Ortolano was quite the businessman, and he had a small grocery stand at the corner of Magazine and Delachaise. They first sold sno-balls from their grocer stand in 1931. But he realized that hand shaving the ice was terribly inefficient. He was a wiz with machines, and within a matter of months in 1937, he had developed a box that inhaled hunks of ice and exhaled fine snow. He initially called it the Ice Commando, but later settled on the SnoWizard, whose pitch was “Sno cones the Sno way.” Later in life, George, perhaps trying to help his wife with syrup recipes, became a master beekeeper.
Efficiently and finely shaving the ice was half the battle. Their snoballs needed what I call sauce, and it was through sauces that George’s wife, Josie, became known as the Queen of the Snoball. Her reputation as a syrup chemist grew and grew as she developed many flavors. So successful was she that much of the business their nephew does through the family’s business on River Road is selling bottles of their delicious syrups. It is the syrup, after all, that leaves the flavor lingering in the mind as well as a temporary colored tattoo on the tongue.
Like many of the first masters of flavored chipped, shredded, and shaved ice, Ortolano was Sicilian, or rather, son of two Sicilian immigrants. Some say that it was the southern Italians who invented flavored ice. Legend tells of Emperor Nero, famous for scapegoating Christians for the Great Fire of Rome in 64, who ordered his slaves to the mountains to retrieve ice. They would blend it with fruit for a delightful refreshment -- the result being sorbetto. This story is completely a fabrication in my opinion, as I can find no real sources to support it. What is well documented is that by the 19th century Italians had become enamored with their granitas, sorbettos, and gelato. Brocato’s Italian ice, which was first sold in the French Quarter in 1905, four decades before NYC’s Lemon Ice King of Corona even opened, is the best example of granita in America.
When I think of things that are, as the late and great Frank Davis said, “Naturally New Orleans,” certain brands and family names come to mind. Rubenstein’s. M. Goldberg’s. Perlis. Galatoire’s. Antoine’s. Brennan’s. Leidenheimer. Brocato’s. Impastato’s. James H. Cohen & Sons, McKenzie’s. Copeland’s. Schwegmann's. Time Saver. Tastee. There are the institutions of New Orleans we also hold dearly: The Southern Yacht Club. The Boston, Louisiana, and Pickwick Clubs. Comus. Christmas in the Oaks. The New Orleans Athletic Club. The New Orleans Lawn and Tennis Club. Tally-Ho. Trinity. Christ Church Cathedral. NOMA. The Historic New Orleans Collection. Jesuit. Delgado. More broadly, we associate certain foods, holidays, and traditions with this wonderful city: Barq’s. Big Shot. Bud's. Beignets. Muffulettas, Mardi Gras. Monday red beans. King cakes. Front Day. Réveillon. Hot chocolate parties. Poorboys. Seafood boils. Streetcars. Snoballs.
It is only in the last 15 years that sno-balls have begun to receive attention as a quintessential aspect of both New Orleans’ culinary history as well as its social history. When Katrina scattered us to the four corners of the globe, we realized what was not in our new, temporary homes. These uncouth cities lacked a communal dessert culture. Sure, we could grab a cup of ice cream on the go or stop at Sonic and sit isolated in the car with our slush, entertained by the fisticuffs. Maybe you even tried a treat from an ice cream truck that came to you.
We were living the soulless life of Anytown, America. But as toothsome as those treats were they were also unsatisfyingly empty. The desserts themselves were, like Big Alcohol, mass produced without care for the individual and certainly without care for society. These desserts were missiles of anti-culture. Each time a projectile landed in our mouths, we felt it in our hearts. We knew we had to return.
Home is God and until we are united in that, the greatest of communities, we are restless. I believe God showers the Earth with condensed milk and honey-like syrup in certain spots to sustain us, like those ancient traveling Israelites. It just so happens God’s syrup bottle lingered over New Orleans a good bit longer than other patches of the world. Our sinking soils and cracked streets emanate that anointed, anti-miasmic sweetness, sticking this community together like syrupped fingers after a pothole jolts sweet sauce from your cup.
The sno-ball stand allows New Orleanians to be who we are and that is a social people. We see that character most clearly during Mardi Gras, but that season is just an intumescent expression of who we are. The Lutherans might call it our Gemeinshaftsgeist -- a spirit and culture that bends us from our birth and cradles us without our knowledge. I think of a snoball shed no more than 100 square feet in size that gave Fat City its name, a joy to toponymists. Of all American cities, New Orleans is the most social, and I argue that the sno-ball is our most social of foods.
Many associate sno-balls with a midday cooldown. It is true our family occasionally had these reprieves from the peak heat, but those were unusual. For the TulaneLSU family, sno-balls were an end of day digestif, a vespers of sorts. Both Sister and I had, for a few summers, ball games at Avenger Field, a name I, as a player, unsuccessfully campaigned to have changed. Ultimately, I quit baseball because I was in favor of Jesus’s command to forgive 70 times seven times. I simply could not play under the banner containing a bend sinister.
Unlike volleyball, I was an unaccomplished baseball player -- I only hit 112, as in 0.112%, and that was against pitching machines that did not throw curves. After my weekly humiliation -- I was individually blamed by Coach for more than one loss -- our teams and our family would often recreate at Williams Plum Street Snoballs. It was here that I learned to love snoballs. Teammates, Mother, and Uncle seemed to have a great time together while slowly slipping on their iced desserts. I was usually relegated to the curb, as no one wanted to talk to me, especially if I had dropped a flyball that cost us a chance at a trophy. Sitting alone on the curb, enjoying a plain ice snoball, as Mother insisted that I lose weight and sugar would not help, was at times tough. Still, I enjoyed watching everyone else share fellowship, knowing that amongst each other, they were accepted. To be accepted, loved, and caught up in the great cloud of witnesses, these are my hopes. What I saw as a child at Plum St, which achieved a score of 24, gave me a glimpse as to what these things look like.
There has never been a comprehensive history of the New Orleans sno-ball. The tradition of its origin usually putters with an uninteresting debate between Hansen's and SnoWizard. The debate reached a fever pitch in 1997, when The Times Picayune was the battleground. The arguments have since cooled, but descendants of the first two families of the sno-ball, the Ortolanos and the Hansens, continue to insist that their ancestors were the first to invent the machine and popularize the treat.
George Ortolano was a first generation American, raised not too far from the Mississippi River, whose parents, like many Sicilians, entered the grocery trade. Ortolano was quite the businessman, and he had a small grocery stand at the corner of Magazine and Delachaise. They first sold sno-balls from their grocer stand in 1931. But he realized that hand shaving the ice was terribly inefficient. He was a wiz with machines, and within a matter of months in 1937, he had developed a box that inhaled hunks of ice and exhaled fine snow. He initially called it the Ice Commando, but later settled on the SnoWizard, whose pitch was “Sno cones the Sno way.” Later in life, George, perhaps trying to help his wife with syrup recipes, became a master beekeeper.
Efficiently and finely shaving the ice was half the battle. Their snoballs needed what I call sauce, and it was through sauces that George’s wife, Josie, became known as the Queen of the Snoball. Her reputation as a syrup chemist grew and grew as she developed many flavors. So successful was she that much of the business their nephew does through the family’s business on River Road is selling bottles of their delicious syrups. It is the syrup, after all, that leaves the flavor lingering in the mind as well as a temporary colored tattoo on the tongue.
Like many of the first masters of flavored chipped, shredded, and shaved ice, Ortolano was Sicilian, or rather, son of two Sicilian immigrants. Some say that it was the southern Italians who invented flavored ice. Legend tells of Emperor Nero, famous for scapegoating Christians for the Great Fire of Rome in 64, who ordered his slaves to the mountains to retrieve ice. They would blend it with fruit for a delightful refreshment -- the result being sorbetto. This story is completely a fabrication in my opinion, as I can find no real sources to support it. What is well documented is that by the 19th century Italians had become enamored with their granitas, sorbettos, and gelato. Brocato’s Italian ice, which was first sold in the French Quarter in 1905, four decades before NYC’s Lemon Ice King of Corona even opened, is the best example of granita in America.
This post was edited on 9/27/20 at 12:14 am
25
Posted on 9/25/20 at 4:11 pm to TulaneLSU
It is no surprise then that New Orleans gave birth to the snoball. It was New Orleans, after all, that welcomed with not so open arms 300,000 Italians in three decades, beginning in 1880. The mass movement started with a series of terrible droughts in southern Italy. As farms became parched lands, the farmers and peasants of that land, especially Sicily, suffered greatly. Looking for a an escape from poverty, southern Italians poured into our fair city’s port.
When they arrived, they found a land significantly warmer and more humid than Sicily. Unquestionably, the first flavored ices appeared on New Orleans streets in the 1880s. By that time, New Orleans had all the necessary ingredients: ice, sugar, Italians who knew how to blend them, and a demand to escape the heat. The first of many ice houses in New Orleans opened in 1837 and was called The Ice House at 198 Tchoupitoulas. Many others arose, to accept shipped ice from the North, kept refrigerated on ships using early cooling systems. By the 1870s, New Orleans ice houses had ice producing machines designed by Frenchman Ferdinand Carre. The ice then was distributed throughout the city via rail, and it was remarkably cheap. As for sugar, New Orleans, of course, was the American capital of that cash crop and there was no supply shortage.
The snoball was a dessert that rose, like the poorboy, from poverty. The city, by the time the Sicilians arrived, had a bevy of ice cream parlors, of which McCloskey’s Ladies Saloon, Cafe de Cordova, and E. Offner’s were quite popular. The main thoroughfares, like Canal Street, were filled with ice cream carts as well. The newly arrived immigrants, though, had almost nothing, and to invest daily in a relatively expensive perishable like milk or cream was simply not possible for most of these tattered entrepreneurial street vendors.
These men are the real fathers of the New Orleans snoball. They invented it out of necessity and for a dream. While Americans largely see history as a drama whose individual actors guide it to its conclusion, I am far more Tolstoyan. I see history, except as it relates to Jesus, as movements of groups of people. The masses, not individuals, are the movers and influencers of history. These unnamed, forgotten, and faceless snoball kings, whose faces are hidden in the shadows of time, like the one below, serving children in the French Quarter, are to whom I pay homage.
Photo by Edwin Wisherd in April 1930 edition of National Geographic
The Golden Age of the New Orleans snoball shared its time with the Great Depression. As many Americans felt financial pressure, even ruin, the luxuries of the 1920s faded. The five cent scoop of ice cream or a granita at Brocato’s was out of reach, and the street snoball, which cost one or two cents, became a luxury. These were the years New Orleans saw such proliferation of snoball stand and snoball cart as well as ingenuity with snoball machinary, and snoball sauce. Without the Great Depression, I do not think snoballs would exist as a fundamental aspect of contemporary Crescent City culture.
The early snoballs, as today, required no preparation. These ephemeral creations were and are convenient creations. No kitchen or significant skill was necessary. Shave ice. Pour sauce. Serve. They were perhaps the first on-demand custom-made dessert. Their kitchens were their clackety wooden rickshaws constructed of riparian riff raff, more often than not drawn by human power than horses or mule. There was an icebox, ice, file, and some flavored syrup. Dairy additions came decades later.
The earliest printed proof for the New Orleans snoball comes from 1913. What is novel of the early New Orleans flavored ices, marking it different from those found in NY, NJ, and Italy was how it was made. All previous forms of the Italian versions of flavored ices involve incorporating the fruity flavoring in the water before ice is formed. The New Orleans invention simplified matters. Shave your ice. Then pour a sugary sauce atop it.
The Hansen family argues that their patriarch, Ernest, invented the first snoball ice shaving machine. The year was 1934, and eventually that machine gained a patent in 1950. According to family tradition, it was salubrity, not efficiency, which motivated Ernest.
The story goes that sometime in the early 1930s Ernest was walking with his son on Esplanade Avenue. It was a hot and humid summer’s day and he wanted that most special of New Orleans treats that begins to cool you as soon as the ice hits your lips. He came across a street vendor pushing a wobbly wooden cart. These were the days when the streets were filled with Italian street vendors -- from Sam Cortese’s Roman Candy cart to the many vegetable carts. The ice chipper, an Italian man, hands filthy with muck and dirt and who knows what else, was fashioning with rasp an original snowball. As much as Ernest wanted to give his son a cool treat, he could not overlook how filthy the whole scene was. He left without a cup, or really a paper plate, as snoballs were served on plates in those days, in his hand, but he did have an idea in his mind.
To limit handling of ice, Hansen put his mind to mechanics and developed a blizzard maker. Yes, it was cleanliness that drove his invention. So central was this theme that Hansen, and his Italian wife, chose “Never touched by hand” as the company’s first motto. They opened a small stand in 1936 before establishing a brick, or rather, cinder block and mortar location in 1939. Today, Hansen’s uses three of the original machines Ernest built and is owned and operated by Ashley Hansen, the founder’s granddaughter.
Uncle suspects that the original snowballs of New Orleans of the late 19th century had an Italian sobriquet which is lost to history. These first snowballs were hand scraped, coarse, and without the fluff that makes a sno-ball a sno-ball.
Despite what the Hansens and the Ortolanos claim, neither popularized the snoball nor did either invent the snoball machine. In the 1920s an anonymous person invented the first snoball machine, but the hand scrapers were still more popular. The scrapers sold from their "snowball push wagons" outfitted with wooden ice chests to store the ice before being shaved to order. The shavers used rasps, essentially files that they ran across the ice’s surface to shave it.
By 1925, an entire industry of snowball syrup was roaring. Both commercially and for personal use, patrons bought quarts of flavored syrups, including pineapple, peach, and strawberry, and of course, spearmint. A quart would run about 30 cents. Seven ounce containers ran eight cents.
Baumer's Foods, the same company that manufactures Crystal Hot Sauce, played an important role in the early commercialization of the snowball syrups. Alvin Baumer arrived in New Orleans having recently bought Mill's Fruit Products. I know next to nothing about this company, but they were one of the first commercial manufacturers of snowball syrup. Baumer did well making these syrups, but legend has it that in the early 1920s, while going through a desk drawer at the old Mill's office on Tchoupitoulas, he found a recipe for "Crystal Pure." He made a batch, and from that point on hot sauce, not syrup, became Baumer's focus. By 1930, Crystal became the company’s identity, and even the snowball syrups were sold as “Crystal Brand snowball syrup.”
When they arrived, they found a land significantly warmer and more humid than Sicily. Unquestionably, the first flavored ices appeared on New Orleans streets in the 1880s. By that time, New Orleans had all the necessary ingredients: ice, sugar, Italians who knew how to blend them, and a demand to escape the heat. The first of many ice houses in New Orleans opened in 1837 and was called The Ice House at 198 Tchoupitoulas. Many others arose, to accept shipped ice from the North, kept refrigerated on ships using early cooling systems. By the 1870s, New Orleans ice houses had ice producing machines designed by Frenchman Ferdinand Carre. The ice then was distributed throughout the city via rail, and it was remarkably cheap. As for sugar, New Orleans, of course, was the American capital of that cash crop and there was no supply shortage.
The snoball was a dessert that rose, like the poorboy, from poverty. The city, by the time the Sicilians arrived, had a bevy of ice cream parlors, of which McCloskey’s Ladies Saloon, Cafe de Cordova, and E. Offner’s were quite popular. The main thoroughfares, like Canal Street, were filled with ice cream carts as well. The newly arrived immigrants, though, had almost nothing, and to invest daily in a relatively expensive perishable like milk or cream was simply not possible for most of these tattered entrepreneurial street vendors.
These men are the real fathers of the New Orleans snoball. They invented it out of necessity and for a dream. While Americans largely see history as a drama whose individual actors guide it to its conclusion, I am far more Tolstoyan. I see history, except as it relates to Jesus, as movements of groups of people. The masses, not individuals, are the movers and influencers of history. These unnamed, forgotten, and faceless snoball kings, whose faces are hidden in the shadows of time, like the one below, serving children in the French Quarter, are to whom I pay homage.
Photo by Edwin Wisherd in April 1930 edition of National Geographic
The Golden Age of the New Orleans snoball shared its time with the Great Depression. As many Americans felt financial pressure, even ruin, the luxuries of the 1920s faded. The five cent scoop of ice cream or a granita at Brocato’s was out of reach, and the street snoball, which cost one or two cents, became a luxury. These were the years New Orleans saw such proliferation of snoball stand and snoball cart as well as ingenuity with snoball machinary, and snoball sauce. Without the Great Depression, I do not think snoballs would exist as a fundamental aspect of contemporary Crescent City culture.
The early snoballs, as today, required no preparation. These ephemeral creations were and are convenient creations. No kitchen or significant skill was necessary. Shave ice. Pour sauce. Serve. They were perhaps the first on-demand custom-made dessert. Their kitchens were their clackety wooden rickshaws constructed of riparian riff raff, more often than not drawn by human power than horses or mule. There was an icebox, ice, file, and some flavored syrup. Dairy additions came decades later.
The earliest printed proof for the New Orleans snoball comes from 1913. What is novel of the early New Orleans flavored ices, marking it different from those found in NY, NJ, and Italy was how it was made. All previous forms of the Italian versions of flavored ices involve incorporating the fruity flavoring in the water before ice is formed. The New Orleans invention simplified matters. Shave your ice. Then pour a sugary sauce atop it.
The Hansen family argues that their patriarch, Ernest, invented the first snoball ice shaving machine. The year was 1934, and eventually that machine gained a patent in 1950. According to family tradition, it was salubrity, not efficiency, which motivated Ernest.
The story goes that sometime in the early 1930s Ernest was walking with his son on Esplanade Avenue. It was a hot and humid summer’s day and he wanted that most special of New Orleans treats that begins to cool you as soon as the ice hits your lips. He came across a street vendor pushing a wobbly wooden cart. These were the days when the streets were filled with Italian street vendors -- from Sam Cortese’s Roman Candy cart to the many vegetable carts. The ice chipper, an Italian man, hands filthy with muck and dirt and who knows what else, was fashioning with rasp an original snowball. As much as Ernest wanted to give his son a cool treat, he could not overlook how filthy the whole scene was. He left without a cup, or really a paper plate, as snoballs were served on plates in those days, in his hand, but he did have an idea in his mind.
To limit handling of ice, Hansen put his mind to mechanics and developed a blizzard maker. Yes, it was cleanliness that drove his invention. So central was this theme that Hansen, and his Italian wife, chose “Never touched by hand” as the company’s first motto. They opened a small stand in 1936 before establishing a brick, or rather, cinder block and mortar location in 1939. Today, Hansen’s uses three of the original machines Ernest built and is owned and operated by Ashley Hansen, the founder’s granddaughter.
Uncle suspects that the original snowballs of New Orleans of the late 19th century had an Italian sobriquet which is lost to history. These first snowballs were hand scraped, coarse, and without the fluff that makes a sno-ball a sno-ball.
Despite what the Hansens and the Ortolanos claim, neither popularized the snoball nor did either invent the snoball machine. In the 1920s an anonymous person invented the first snoball machine, but the hand scrapers were still more popular. The scrapers sold from their "snowball push wagons" outfitted with wooden ice chests to store the ice before being shaved to order. The shavers used rasps, essentially files that they ran across the ice’s surface to shave it.
By 1925, an entire industry of snowball syrup was roaring. Both commercially and for personal use, patrons bought quarts of flavored syrups, including pineapple, peach, and strawberry, and of course, spearmint. A quart would run about 30 cents. Seven ounce containers ran eight cents.
Baumer's Foods, the same company that manufactures Crystal Hot Sauce, played an important role in the early commercialization of the snowball syrups. Alvin Baumer arrived in New Orleans having recently bought Mill's Fruit Products. I know next to nothing about this company, but they were one of the first commercial manufacturers of snowball syrup. Baumer did well making these syrups, but legend has it that in the early 1920s, while going through a desk drawer at the old Mill's office on Tchoupitoulas, he found a recipe for "Crystal Pure." He made a batch, and from that point on hot sauce, not syrup, became Baumer's focus. By 1930, Crystal became the company’s identity, and even the snowball syrups were sold as “Crystal Brand snowball syrup.”
This post was edited on 9/25/20 at 8:37 pm
Posted on 9/25/20 at 4:11 pm to TulaneLSU
A rival syrup company, Erath’s, competed bravely against Crystal. Erath’s main draw was its 15 flavors. Of course there were others like Crescent City Carbonate Co., Papoose Syrup, and J.J. Garvey Co. Many stand owners brewed their own sauces, including Josie Ortolano.
Making snowballs at home became a New Orleans thing. Gift packages consisting of an ice scraper and fancy footed glasses for the concoctions were sold in department and hardware stores. Baumer's sold its syrup to pharmacies who sold the syrup to the public.
The first actual snowball stand likely was in a gas station, Nick's Gas Station on Banks Street in Mid-City. It used a machine, but this machine, again, did not make snow quite as fine as that found in the sno-ball. Another notable early stand was found at the corner of Angela and St. Claude in the Lower 9th Ward (1927).
By 1926, the term snowball scraper no longer referred to a tool to shave the ice. Snowball scrapers were now the title given to the people who scraped the ice with the scraper. Next time you visit a sno-ball stand, perhaps compliment the worker with a kind thought: "You are my favorite sno-ball scraper."
Money was plentiful in the Roaring 20s. The snoball challenged ice cream for supremacy in New Orleans, but ice cream was still the favorite of the Americans, especially Uptown and Downtown, not including the French Quarter. The average cost of a snowball was five cents in the early 20s, but the economic downturn suppressed those prices. A snowball machine, now sometimes referred to as a grinder, could be had on the used market for $12.
The snowball stand of the 1920s was akin to the convenience store of later years. Unfortunately, it was not unusual to hear of robberies from these stands and carts. Often times, it seems some of the violence was a result of racial animosity, as many of the scrapers were Black. It was into this environment that the Ortolanos opened their Uptown stand in 1931.
Although violence permeates the city, and snowball fights occurred, New Orleans, as you know, is a hospitable place. Snowball parties became a real event, and I vaguely recall Great Grandfather talking about one such party he had for his tenth birthday in 1930. “It was great fun, and we had the best pineapple syrup from Crystal. I can still taste that perfect pineapple to this day.”
Great Grandfather also reminded me of the snowball stand at the casino in City Park. “It was the early 1930s and they had a marvelous metal ice shaver with the words “SNOW KING” in big bold letters on the cover. This made really delightfully light snow.” This story, and an article I was able to dig up from 1932 brings into question SnoWizard’s claim to having invented the sno-ball in 1937, which became backdated to 1936 in more recent years.
Snoballs etched their way into the entire conscience of the city in the late 30s. What had started in Italian neighborhoods had spread down and upriver and to Mid-City. When the not-New Orleans Echols attempted to push into the market in the early 1950s with its “snoball ice shaver,” the city rejected it because its ice was coarse. By the 1960s, though, Time Saver’s owner figured out that what New Orleans wanted was smooth ice. The code was cracked and the Trojan Horse of the ICEE entered our gates. This frozen drink harmed our snoball culture in the 70s through Katrina, in much the same way that the Subway-like hero damaged our poorboy culture during that same time.
Because snoball stands require minimum investment, equipment, and non-specialized labor, the only limiting factor in where sno-ball stands have spread is culture. If an area has a significant number of New Orleans ex-pats, like Houston or Atlanta, one is likely to find an adequate sno-ball stand. Areas frequented by New Orleanians on vacation, like Destin, Navarre, or Perdido Key may also have sno-ball stands. Baton Rouge, as is normally the case, is confused. Sometimes one is able to find a real sno-ball, but more often than not, the disgusting snow cone predominates, with most of the philistines there not understanding the difference between the two. Coastal Mississippi has a stronger sno-ball culture than Baton Rouge.
I generally hold to the precept that where Mardi Gras is celebrated in mirrored New Orleans fashion, one can find a decent sno-ball. This general rule works in Mobile, for example, where there is no real Mardi Gras nor is there a sno-ball culture. It also works in Houma, where they do have a Mardi Gras, and Fran’s Snowball Stand would make The Top 10 if they learned how to spell snoball correctly.
Baltimore likes to claim it invented the snowball, basing a date of origin in the mid-1800s. However, residents of that city are quick to make up stories that their original snowball stand, Walther Gardens, opened in those early days. However, the snowball stand itself, which doubles as a garden store, admits to opening in 1933. One thing is clear to me: after a good number of days scavenging through the Baltimore Sun archives is that New Orleans had shaved flavored ice decades before Baltimore. More than that, sno-ball culture in New Orleans was well entrenched in the city before Baltimore’s first snowball stand even opened.
Baltimore may have the closest cousin to the New Orleans sno-ball of any in America. Snowballs there originally were known as sno-balls, borrowing from the New Orleans spelling. Snowballs are also served in a similar way: styrofoam cups, topped with a cone head, with a plastic straw and spoon to use for consumption. Snowballs there were also originally sold from carts before moving to shacks. If you have ever done a tour of Baltimore’s snowball stands, you will find that most of them look like the post-1970 snowball stands of New Orleans. None has the same feel ofcommunity of New Orleans’ grande dames like Plum St., Hansen’s, and Sal’s.
Nonetheless Baltimore’s more recent version of this New Orleans original has several key differences. The first is with the ice. To me, Baltimore’s chunky ice is closer to the big chunks of a snow cone. That ice is repulsive, really, and prevents a thorough saturation of syrup through the ice’s dense surface. Secondly, Baltimore snowballs often employ a liquid marshmallow topping in much the same way New Orleans uses the superior condensed milk. Sometimes, the liquid marshmallow is stuffed in the middle of the ice as well, like a stuffed sno-ball. Third, Baltimore snowballs often have toppings. A favorite topping is the gummy bear. I know of no New Orleans sno-ball stands except Rodney’s in New Orleans East that offers such distractions. Fourth, the so-called original Baltimore flavor, and the city’s favorite, is egg custard. And finally, most Baltimore stands use ice shavers and syrup made from Koldkiss, whose machines look more like cylindrical vacuums than sno-ball shavers, and whose syrup bottles have pathetic little pumps, like soap bottles.
Making snowballs at home became a New Orleans thing. Gift packages consisting of an ice scraper and fancy footed glasses for the concoctions were sold in department and hardware stores. Baumer's sold its syrup to pharmacies who sold the syrup to the public.
The first actual snowball stand likely was in a gas station, Nick's Gas Station on Banks Street in Mid-City. It used a machine, but this machine, again, did not make snow quite as fine as that found in the sno-ball. Another notable early stand was found at the corner of Angela and St. Claude in the Lower 9th Ward (1927).
By 1926, the term snowball scraper no longer referred to a tool to shave the ice. Snowball scrapers were now the title given to the people who scraped the ice with the scraper. Next time you visit a sno-ball stand, perhaps compliment the worker with a kind thought: "You are my favorite sno-ball scraper."
Money was plentiful in the Roaring 20s. The snoball challenged ice cream for supremacy in New Orleans, but ice cream was still the favorite of the Americans, especially Uptown and Downtown, not including the French Quarter. The average cost of a snowball was five cents in the early 20s, but the economic downturn suppressed those prices. A snowball machine, now sometimes referred to as a grinder, could be had on the used market for $12.
The snowball stand of the 1920s was akin to the convenience store of later years. Unfortunately, it was not unusual to hear of robberies from these stands and carts. Often times, it seems some of the violence was a result of racial animosity, as many of the scrapers were Black. It was into this environment that the Ortolanos opened their Uptown stand in 1931.
Although violence permeates the city, and snowball fights occurred, New Orleans, as you know, is a hospitable place. Snowball parties became a real event, and I vaguely recall Great Grandfather talking about one such party he had for his tenth birthday in 1930. “It was great fun, and we had the best pineapple syrup from Crystal. I can still taste that perfect pineapple to this day.”
Great Grandfather also reminded me of the snowball stand at the casino in City Park. “It was the early 1930s and they had a marvelous metal ice shaver with the words “SNOW KING” in big bold letters on the cover. This made really delightfully light snow.” This story, and an article I was able to dig up from 1932 brings into question SnoWizard’s claim to having invented the sno-ball in 1937, which became backdated to 1936 in more recent years.
Snoballs etched their way into the entire conscience of the city in the late 30s. What had started in Italian neighborhoods had spread down and upriver and to Mid-City. When the not-New Orleans Echols attempted to push into the market in the early 1950s with its “snoball ice shaver,” the city rejected it because its ice was coarse. By the 1960s, though, Time Saver’s owner figured out that what New Orleans wanted was smooth ice. The code was cracked and the Trojan Horse of the ICEE entered our gates. This frozen drink harmed our snoball culture in the 70s through Katrina, in much the same way that the Subway-like hero damaged our poorboy culture during that same time.
Because snoball stands require minimum investment, equipment, and non-specialized labor, the only limiting factor in where sno-ball stands have spread is culture. If an area has a significant number of New Orleans ex-pats, like Houston or Atlanta, one is likely to find an adequate sno-ball stand. Areas frequented by New Orleanians on vacation, like Destin, Navarre, or Perdido Key may also have sno-ball stands. Baton Rouge, as is normally the case, is confused. Sometimes one is able to find a real sno-ball, but more often than not, the disgusting snow cone predominates, with most of the philistines there not understanding the difference between the two. Coastal Mississippi has a stronger sno-ball culture than Baton Rouge.
I generally hold to the precept that where Mardi Gras is celebrated in mirrored New Orleans fashion, one can find a decent sno-ball. This general rule works in Mobile, for example, where there is no real Mardi Gras nor is there a sno-ball culture. It also works in Houma, where they do have a Mardi Gras, and Fran’s Snowball Stand would make The Top 10 if they learned how to spell snoball correctly.
Baltimore likes to claim it invented the snowball, basing a date of origin in the mid-1800s. However, residents of that city are quick to make up stories that their original snowball stand, Walther Gardens, opened in those early days. However, the snowball stand itself, which doubles as a garden store, admits to opening in 1933. One thing is clear to me: after a good number of days scavenging through the Baltimore Sun archives is that New Orleans had shaved flavored ice decades before Baltimore. More than that, sno-ball culture in New Orleans was well entrenched in the city before Baltimore’s first snowball stand even opened.
Baltimore may have the closest cousin to the New Orleans sno-ball of any in America. Snowballs there originally were known as sno-balls, borrowing from the New Orleans spelling. Snowballs are also served in a similar way: styrofoam cups, topped with a cone head, with a plastic straw and spoon to use for consumption. Snowballs there were also originally sold from carts before moving to shacks. If you have ever done a tour of Baltimore’s snowball stands, you will find that most of them look like the post-1970 snowball stands of New Orleans. None has the same feel ofcommunity of New Orleans’ grande dames like Plum St., Hansen’s, and Sal’s.
Nonetheless Baltimore’s more recent version of this New Orleans original has several key differences. The first is with the ice. To me, Baltimore’s chunky ice is closer to the big chunks of a snow cone. That ice is repulsive, really, and prevents a thorough saturation of syrup through the ice’s dense surface. Secondly, Baltimore snowballs often employ a liquid marshmallow topping in much the same way New Orleans uses the superior condensed milk. Sometimes, the liquid marshmallow is stuffed in the middle of the ice as well, like a stuffed sno-ball. Third, Baltimore snowballs often have toppings. A favorite topping is the gummy bear. I know of no New Orleans sno-ball stands except Rodney’s in New Orleans East that offers such distractions. Fourth, the so-called original Baltimore flavor, and the city’s favorite, is egg custard. And finally, most Baltimore stands use ice shavers and syrup made from Koldkiss, whose machines look more like cylindrical vacuums than sno-ball shavers, and whose syrup bottles have pathetic little pumps, like soap bottles.
This post was edited on 9/25/20 at 4:15 pm
Posted on 9/25/20 at 4:11 pm to TulaneLSU
Friends, I fear I may have lost your attention with my brief introduction. I will proceed to your reason for reading, but before I do that, let me assure you that I took this pilgrimage with a sincere desire to find the ten best snoball stands. To do so required I eat over 1000 snoballs and visit more than 60 stands. I was not able to visit stands on the Westbank or Northshore, for obvious reasons. Friends, here are TulaneLSU’s Top 10 Snoballs:
10. Sal’s, 1823 Metairie Ave, Old Metairie
Established: 1959 (Sal Talluto)
Best snoball: Sock-it-to-me
Atmosphere: 10/10
History: 7/10
Ice quality: 3/10
Syrup quality: 2/10
Cost: 4/10
Score: 26/50
9. Rodney’s Sno-balls, 9231 Lake Forest Blvd, New Orleans East
Established: unknown.
Best snoball: Cotton candy cream
Atmosphere: 6/10
History: 3/10 (before Katrina, but my repeated calls and questions to the snoball makers has yielded me no answer. I believe it is the oldest stand in New Orleans East)
Ice quality: 5/10
Syrup quality: 6/10
Cost: 7/10
Score: 27/50
8. Flavors Snoballs and Ice Cream, 500 Vintage Dr., Kenner
Established: 2010
Best snoball: Wedding Cake
Atmosphere: 3/10
History: 1/10
Ice quality: 8/10
Syrup quality: 9/10
Cost: 7/10
Score: 28/50
7. Casey’s, 4608 W. Esplanade, Metairie
Established: unknown. Previous location on West Metairie had a clown shaped roof in the 1990s.
Best snoball: Hurricane with condensed milk versus chocolate
Atmosphere: 5/10
History: 6/10
Ice quality: 6/10
Syrup quality: 5/10
Cost: 7/10
Score: 29/50
6. Sunny’s, 3437 Florida Ave., Kenner
Sunny’s is Kenner’s second oldest and longest surviving snoball vendor, but its history actually began at 2916 Cleary Ave. in Metairie in 1984. That old location is now showing the wear of time, but at that time, it was a decent strip mall just a decade old surrounded by new apartments. It was quite the commercial center with a world renown bakery and several of Metairie’s best restaurants. Next to it was Maggiore’s Gourmet World, Dedebant’s Seafood and Smart N Sassy Beauty Salon.
Sunny’s initially started as an ice cream parlor. It was indoors and was attempting to compete with Baskin Robbins. The sno-balls were an afterthought, but never considered its raison d'être. Its owner decided to franchise and Kenner was booming. Old horse stables were becoming subdivisions and the Esplanade Mall. Its snoball offerings were limited only to Gerry’s in northern Kenner and the nameless shack at Airline and Roosevelt. Sunny’s Kenner opened in 1987, again, as an ice cream parlor first and snoball stand second. I always admired the building’s interesting architecture, reminiscent of the Kenner’s Bud’s pitched roof and the old weather station in Lake Pontchartrain that looked like a bottle house near Bonnabel.
Ice cream parlors, however, like in the Great Depression, were falling out of favor with the ordinary citizen. Most Kenna Brahmin, not to be confused with their Boston counterparts, like father’s friend, Charles, preferred their ice cream from 31, Wendy’s, McDonald’s or a K&B carton. Sunny’s emphasis shifted to the sno-ball. While its location near the busy W. Esplanade and Williams intersection never allowed a great outdoor atmosphere, people still have found great conversation and relief in the school desk seating indoors. If you ever played ball at Greenlawn, Driftwood, Muss Bertlolino, or even Wentwood, you probably had a post-game sno-ball at Sunny’s, now in its 36th year. Time prohibited me from doing a summary of each of the stands like with Sunny’s. I will try to complete the others later.
Established:1984
Best snoball: Spearmint
Atmosphere: 7/10
History: 5/10
Ice quality: 7/10
Syrup quality: 5/10
Cost: 6/10
Score: 30/50
5. Ro-Bear’s, 6869 Jefferson Hwy, Harahan
Established: 1965 (Shirley Roberts)
Best flavor: Chocolate
Atmosphere: 6/10
History: 5/10
Ice quality: 7/10
Syrup quality: 7/10
Cost: 6/10
Score: 31/50
10. Sal’s, 1823 Metairie Ave, Old Metairie
Established: 1959 (Sal Talluto)
Best snoball: Sock-it-to-me
Atmosphere: 10/10
History: 7/10
Ice quality: 3/10
Syrup quality: 2/10
Cost: 4/10
Score: 26/50
9. Rodney’s Sno-balls, 9231 Lake Forest Blvd, New Orleans East
Established: unknown.
Best snoball: Cotton candy cream
Atmosphere: 6/10
History: 3/10 (before Katrina, but my repeated calls and questions to the snoball makers has yielded me no answer. I believe it is the oldest stand in New Orleans East)
Ice quality: 5/10
Syrup quality: 6/10
Cost: 7/10
Score: 27/50
8. Flavors Snoballs and Ice Cream, 500 Vintage Dr., Kenner
Established: 2010
Best snoball: Wedding Cake
Atmosphere: 3/10
History: 1/10
Ice quality: 8/10
Syrup quality: 9/10
Cost: 7/10
Score: 28/50
7. Casey’s, 4608 W. Esplanade, Metairie
Established: unknown. Previous location on West Metairie had a clown shaped roof in the 1990s.
Best snoball: Hurricane with condensed milk versus chocolate
Atmosphere: 5/10
History: 6/10
Ice quality: 6/10
Syrup quality: 5/10
Cost: 7/10
Score: 29/50
6. Sunny’s, 3437 Florida Ave., Kenner
Sunny’s is Kenner’s second oldest and longest surviving snoball vendor, but its history actually began at 2916 Cleary Ave. in Metairie in 1984. That old location is now showing the wear of time, but at that time, it was a decent strip mall just a decade old surrounded by new apartments. It was quite the commercial center with a world renown bakery and several of Metairie’s best restaurants. Next to it was Maggiore’s Gourmet World, Dedebant’s Seafood and Smart N Sassy Beauty Salon.
Sunny’s initially started as an ice cream parlor. It was indoors and was attempting to compete with Baskin Robbins. The sno-balls were an afterthought, but never considered its raison d'être. Its owner decided to franchise and Kenner was booming. Old horse stables were becoming subdivisions and the Esplanade Mall. Its snoball offerings were limited only to Gerry’s in northern Kenner and the nameless shack at Airline and Roosevelt. Sunny’s Kenner opened in 1987, again, as an ice cream parlor first and snoball stand second. I always admired the building’s interesting architecture, reminiscent of the Kenner’s Bud’s pitched roof and the old weather station in Lake Pontchartrain that looked like a bottle house near Bonnabel.
Ice cream parlors, however, like in the Great Depression, were falling out of favor with the ordinary citizen. Most Kenna Brahmin, not to be confused with their Boston counterparts, like father’s friend, Charles, preferred their ice cream from 31, Wendy’s, McDonald’s or a K&B carton. Sunny’s emphasis shifted to the sno-ball. While its location near the busy W. Esplanade and Williams intersection never allowed a great outdoor atmosphere, people still have found great conversation and relief in the school desk seating indoors. If you ever played ball at Greenlawn, Driftwood, Muss Bertlolino, or even Wentwood, you probably had a post-game sno-ball at Sunny’s, now in its 36th year. Time prohibited me from doing a summary of each of the stands like with Sunny’s. I will try to complete the others later.
Established:1984
Best snoball: Spearmint
Atmosphere: 7/10
History: 5/10
Ice quality: 7/10
Syrup quality: 5/10
Cost: 6/10
Score: 30/50
5. Ro-Bear’s, 6869 Jefferson Hwy, Harahan
Established: 1965 (Shirley Roberts)
Best flavor: Chocolate
Atmosphere: 6/10
History: 5/10
Ice quality: 7/10
Syrup quality: 7/10
Cost: 6/10
Score: 31/50
This post was edited on 9/25/20 at 4:46 pm
Posted on 9/25/20 at 4:11 pm to TulaneLSU
4. Nameless shack on corner of Airline and Roosevelt, Kenner
In a world of names, celebrity, and fame, this humble shack has never lost track of the snoball’s roots and its primitive basic needs. A trip to the nameless shack is a trip back to what I think the 1970s must have been. There are other similar snoball shacks that do not look like much, but truly capture the essence of snoball culture. Snoasis on Read Blvd in New Orleans East comes to mind. Anyway, can anyone name a stand of any sort in America that has survived 54 years without a name? It is one of the unsung marvels of New Orleans, and you won’t find it on Yelp, TripAdvisor, or any local know-it-all’s website. It is deep New Orleans and only the most inside of insiders know about it.
Established: 1966 (Anthony Loiacono)
Best snoball: Strawberry
Atmosphere: 5/10
History: 7/10
Ice quality: 7/10
Syrup quality: 6/10
Cost: 8/10
Score: 33/50
3. Hansen’s Sno-Bliz, 4801 Tchoupitoulas St.
I have already written extensively about Hansen’s, the world’s oldest snoball shop. Yes, that Baltimore garden shop has sold flavored snow pellets three years longer, so it does not get credit as a snoball. At Hansen's you are just as likely to find a tourist in line as a local, and its atmosphere is affected by that demographic. It reminds me of Mother’s Poorboys, as both institutions still serve a great product, but Hansen’s, for some reason, has not taken on the stigma of tourist trap. Prices have likewise reflected this outsider’s tilt. The culture of the stand has shifted since Katrina, as it feels less like a neighborhood stand than a spectacle or a goal to conquer only for the picture to post on Instagram.
Its menu board, legion with misspellings, always pushes my compulsive buttons. Why can they not use a dictionary and fix those misspellings? The syrups are all good, but one thing I hope they change is the water they use to make the syrup. Instead of using Kentwood, could you please use New Orleans Sewage and Water Board tap water? It is the finest water in the world. I know they use Duplantier’s Ice, which is the city’s best, so it masks that bland Kentwood flavor.
If they stayed open a little later, it might have been on the family snoball rota, but closing well before dark in the summer meant we hardly ever communed here. In fact, I have probably been to Hansen’s less than 20 times even though it was not far from Prytania. One final note is Hansen’s serves the only snoball in New Orleans I am aware of that borrows from the Baltimore tradition of using marshmallow sauce.
Established: 1936 (Ernest and Mary Hansen)
Best snoball: Cream of Nectar or Satsuma
Atmosphere: 7/10
History: 10/10
Ice quality: 9/10
Syrup quality: 8/10
Cost: 1/10
Score: 35/50
2. Pandora’s Snowballs, 901 North Carrollton
New Orleanians are probably the most parochial of all American citizens. Most New Orleanians believe that because a certain restaurant, mechanic, or grocery store is in their neighborhood, it is the best not just in New Orleans, but usually we assume it is the best in the world. Snoball stands are no exceptions. Pandora’s is my neighborhood stand and even though it has one of the most extensive flavor menus, I wonder if I have been objective in grading it.
Established: 1970
Best snoball: Wedding cake
Atmosphere: 8/10
History: 7/10
Ice quality: 8/10
Syrup quality: 7/10
Cost: 6/10
Score: 36/50
1. Pontilly Sno, 3968 Old Gentilly Rd
Throughout this adventure, the question that reared its head again and again was, How did snoballs become such an integral part of the culture of this city? No other American city gathers around outdoor desserts as New Orleans. Something else must be happening here.
Then I arrived at Pontilly Sno, and I realized in this newcomer, the answer was buried. The snoball stand and the snoball are just reasons for a community to gather. This community knows it needs all of its constituent parts to be that community. The snoball stand allows us to ignore our petty and weighty differences, in ways the Church has not, to gather. Although we may not all talk together, our voices join in a harmonious hum as we sip and swallow these innocent delicacies. Put behind us for a few minutes are our troubles and the things that pollute us and our communities. And we become like little children again.
Established: 2015
Best snoball: Watermelon
Atmosphere: 10/10
History: 5/10
Ice quality: 9/10
Syrup quality: 7/10
Cost: 8/10
Score: 39/50
Indeed, my dear friends, let us taste and see that the Lord is good.
Faith, Hope, and Love,
TulaneLSU
In a world of names, celebrity, and fame, this humble shack has never lost track of the snoball’s roots and its primitive basic needs. A trip to the nameless shack is a trip back to what I think the 1970s must have been. There are other similar snoball shacks that do not look like much, but truly capture the essence of snoball culture. Snoasis on Read Blvd in New Orleans East comes to mind. Anyway, can anyone name a stand of any sort in America that has survived 54 years without a name? It is one of the unsung marvels of New Orleans, and you won’t find it on Yelp, TripAdvisor, or any local know-it-all’s website. It is deep New Orleans and only the most inside of insiders know about it.
Established: 1966 (Anthony Loiacono)
Best snoball: Strawberry
Atmosphere: 5/10
History: 7/10
Ice quality: 7/10
Syrup quality: 6/10
Cost: 8/10
Score: 33/50
3. Hansen’s Sno-Bliz, 4801 Tchoupitoulas St.
I have already written extensively about Hansen’s, the world’s oldest snoball shop. Yes, that Baltimore garden shop has sold flavored snow pellets three years longer, so it does not get credit as a snoball. At Hansen's you are just as likely to find a tourist in line as a local, and its atmosphere is affected by that demographic. It reminds me of Mother’s Poorboys, as both institutions still serve a great product, but Hansen’s, for some reason, has not taken on the stigma of tourist trap. Prices have likewise reflected this outsider’s tilt. The culture of the stand has shifted since Katrina, as it feels less like a neighborhood stand than a spectacle or a goal to conquer only for the picture to post on Instagram.
Its menu board, legion with misspellings, always pushes my compulsive buttons. Why can they not use a dictionary and fix those misspellings? The syrups are all good, but one thing I hope they change is the water they use to make the syrup. Instead of using Kentwood, could you please use New Orleans Sewage and Water Board tap water? It is the finest water in the world. I know they use Duplantier’s Ice, which is the city’s best, so it masks that bland Kentwood flavor.
If they stayed open a little later, it might have been on the family snoball rota, but closing well before dark in the summer meant we hardly ever communed here. In fact, I have probably been to Hansen’s less than 20 times even though it was not far from Prytania. One final note is Hansen’s serves the only snoball in New Orleans I am aware of that borrows from the Baltimore tradition of using marshmallow sauce.
Established: 1936 (Ernest and Mary Hansen)
Best snoball: Cream of Nectar or Satsuma
Atmosphere: 7/10
History: 10/10
Ice quality: 9/10
Syrup quality: 8/10
Cost: 1/10
Score: 35/50
2. Pandora’s Snowballs, 901 North Carrollton
New Orleanians are probably the most parochial of all American citizens. Most New Orleanians believe that because a certain restaurant, mechanic, or grocery store is in their neighborhood, it is the best not just in New Orleans, but usually we assume it is the best in the world. Snoball stands are no exceptions. Pandora’s is my neighborhood stand and even though it has one of the most extensive flavor menus, I wonder if I have been objective in grading it.
Established: 1970
Best snoball: Wedding cake
Atmosphere: 8/10
History: 7/10
Ice quality: 8/10
Syrup quality: 7/10
Cost: 6/10
Score: 36/50
1. Pontilly Sno, 3968 Old Gentilly Rd
Throughout this adventure, the question that reared its head again and again was, How did snoballs become such an integral part of the culture of this city? No other American city gathers around outdoor desserts as New Orleans. Something else must be happening here.
Then I arrived at Pontilly Sno, and I realized in this newcomer, the answer was buried. The snoball stand and the snoball are just reasons for a community to gather. This community knows it needs all of its constituent parts to be that community. The snoball stand allows us to ignore our petty and weighty differences, in ways the Church has not, to gather. Although we may not all talk together, our voices join in a harmonious hum as we sip and swallow these innocent delicacies. Put behind us for a few minutes are our troubles and the things that pollute us and our communities. And we become like little children again.
Established: 2015
Best snoball: Watermelon
Atmosphere: 10/10
History: 5/10
Ice quality: 9/10
Syrup quality: 7/10
Cost: 8/10
Score: 39/50
Indeed, my dear friends, let us taste and see that the Lord is good.
Faith, Hope, and Love,
TulaneLSU
This post was edited on 9/25/20 at 8:24 pm
Posted on 9/25/20 at 4:12 pm to TulaneLSU
You know, you could just draft a post in Microsoft Word and then paste it here instead of reserving 4 spots for your inane ramblings.
Posted on 9/25/20 at 4:12 pm to TulaneLSU
A for effort
Posted on 9/25/20 at 4:12 pm to Splackavellie
Robears better make the list
Posted on 9/25/20 at 4:13 pm to Errerrerrwere
Daiquiri run on 61
Posted on 9/25/20 at 4:15 pm to TulaneLSU
Friend,
All snowballs are the same. Simply shaved ice with flavored syrup.
Yours
Lonestar23
All snowballs are the same. Simply shaved ice with flavored syrup.
Yours
Lonestar23
Posted on 9/25/20 at 4:18 pm to TulaneLSU
Friend,
Your list of top 10 snowballs is shite.
Yours,
E
Your list of top 10 snowballs is shite.
Yours,
E
Posted on 9/25/20 at 4:19 pm to TulaneLSU
This is my favorite kind of autism.
Posted on 9/25/20 at 4:19 pm to TulaneLSU
I know mother would not approve but when will we see a top ten New Orleans strip clubs list?
Posted on 9/25/20 at 4:21 pm to TulaneLSU
Friend meet me at Hansen’s so I can beat your arse
This post was edited on 9/25/20 at 4:22 pm
Posted on 9/25/20 at 4:27 pm to TulaneLSU
As a child there was a stand on Veterans-Lakeside Shopping Center. Was just up the road from Hopper's
Posted on 9/25/20 at 4:27 pm to TulaneLSU
Makes me want a large Tiger’s Blood with condensed milk.
Posted on 9/25/20 at 4:29 pm to TulaneLSU
Sno balls are overrated.
Posted on 9/25/20 at 4:30 pm to TulaneLSU
Friend,
I always enjoy your efforts but the three page windup before the list was a tad bloated and caused my interest to flag long before the actual list. A good edit could do wonders.
I always enjoy your efforts but the three page windup before the list was a tad bloated and caused my interest to flag long before the actual list. A good edit could do wonders.
Posted on 9/25/20 at 4:34 pm to TulaneLSU
My mom and grandparent's lived down the street to the left of Ro-Bears! I think there was a Time Saver something like that on the opposite side of the street.
And you left out Mr. Snowman's on Hwy 90 in Boutte on the edge of Mimosa Park.
And you left out Mr. Snowman's on Hwy 90 in Boutte on the edge of Mimosa Park.
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