Simply Swirled: Ijscuypje Ice Cream

In the bustling, shoulder-shoving, cobblestoned area of Neiuwmarkt in Amsterdam Centruum, one small shop sits charged with a daunting task: to sell a sunny-day treat in a city where it always rains. Ijscuypje is a quaint chain of ice cream shops that began in Amsterdam and boasts homemade Dutch ice cream, frozen yogurt, and sorbet. As you walk in from the street only two or three steps on the white linoleum floor, a bright bulbous glass dipcase displays its array of colors and swirls. Ijscuypje scoops up a plain yet satisfying experience for its customers, a treat as smooth and simple as its product.

            I visited the shop after a meal in Niuewmarkt on a Wednesday evening around 8pm, beating the post-dinner rush by only minutes. From the street, the store looks like any gelato or frozen yogurt store you could find in the states, a welcome familiarity to a tourist surrounded by the unknown. Their locations are in areas of the highest tourist traffic in Centruum, and clearly aim to cater primarily to this audience. Inside, the shop immediately and seamlessly fuses two inviting concepts: intimacy and classic 1950s retro nostalgia. The shop is only one small room, but the large standing electric mixers, shiny aluminum pots and pans, and blue service hat of the employee expand the space into a completely different time. The bright white walls and simple blue accents hint at the 50s era, but don’t overwhelm the guest in tacky décor or kitsch. In fact nothing decorates the walls except a giant white board with prices and small graphics of scoops and cones on the left wall. It is clear that the ice cream is the focus.

            For a tourist in the crowded Centruum area, Ijscuypje offers the ideal icy treat. The shop hits all the classic flavor categories: fruity sorbets, decadent cookie-swirled ice creams, and even plain frozen yogurt. Their names are printed clearly at the front of the dipcase, large in Dutch and small in English below. The array of flavors is diverse enough to suit all tastes but exclusive enough to not induce the panic of having too many options to choose. If you still can’t decide, they offer two or three free samples. Our server generously packed the neon plastic mini-spoons with our tasters, each one big enough for two to share. The ice cream is scooped smooth and neatly; the almost spotless dipcase is evidence of a careful scooper.  Our server gracefully packed me a cone of Hazelnut ice cream, a light brown orb sitting flawlessly smooth. The cone was similar to a typical sugar cone you would find in American shops: prepackaged and hashed with waffle-iron texture, but was about four inches longer than the American variety.  The ice cream was similarly same-but-different. The flavor was at once distinctively hazelnut and yet subtle enough to not overpower the smooth texture of the ice cream. Small pieces of chopped hazelnuts were already mixed in, a hesitant dash compared to the high chunk-density of American brands like Ben & Jerry’s. Plus, the texture of the cream could not be farther from Ben & Jerry’s; it challenges their thick, tight ice cream with almost liquid smoothness. The ice cream felt light and thin, hinting at its former milk-state. This combination of conventional flavor with nuanced texture caters to a tourist’s desire for a treat that is comforting in its familiarity but that still feels like a ‘Dutch’ experience. The single scoop was satisfying and a reasonable price of 1.50 euros, making it a delicious stop for tourists roaming the city.

            Yet Ijscuypje doesn’t offer much else beyond the quick tourist stop. The store fails to create an individual and memorable experience for visitors. As you walk into the intimate space, people are immediately filing into line behind you, nudging your bags and shoulders to see the flavors, getting impatient while you try to make a decision. The groups behind me made me feel hastened and pressured to skip out on sampling more flavors and to just choose one I knew I would like. I wasn’t too upset about this, though, as none of the flavors seemed particularly innovative or creative. I also had no time to ask for an ingredients list, which was not easily available either on the counter or anywhere else (which I eventually discovered online—in Dutch). Our server was happy to speak English and served us with kindness and speed, but he was mostly reactive. He responded to our questions and served us what we ordered but never really engaged with us or made the interaction feel anything more than one-way. It was a cut-and-dry consumer interaction, lacking anything that would make it memorable. Nothing made this shop stand out to a traveler to whom all the other chains and shops look the same. This is exacerbated by the lack of seating, forcing customers to immediately leave and take their ice cream to the sidewalk—squeamishly packed with café chairs—or to a bench by the canal or perhaps to just eat while they walk somewhere else. The tired feet of trans-Europe backpackers, of city-traversing shoppers, and scavenger-hunt-exhausted students are given no respite here. Sitting in a shop creates a holistic experience and a memory strong enough to share with friends. At Ijscuypje, the visitor doesn’t have a connection to the space and leaves with only cup or cone as a token they were even there. Both the ice cream and the experience are thin; they melt quickly.

            For tourists looking for a quick treat with basic charm and modest fun, Ijscuypje is delightful. It is a great way to taste a bit of Amsterdam history while you run to the museums and stroll through the 17^th century streets. If you are looking for a complete and memorable dessert experience, Ijscuypje will disappoint. That said, I can’t say I won’t be going back.