Culture
New York’s Museum of Ice Cream is Neither Museum Nor Ice Cream
But it is Instagrammable
It’s so hard to think of things to do in NYC!
Just kidding.
In this Michelin-studded metropolis, a committed foodie could visit a new restaurant daily for 22.7 years. Fine art, science and history fans have upward of 100 museums to explore, new exhibits drawing them back time and again. The concrete jungle is home to plenty of parks where city lovers can scratch their nature itch. Wander half an hour from almost any spot and you’ll reach water with a shimmering skyline view. The town is a performing arts mecca; in the streets, on the stages and under the spotlights flows a stream of spectacle to suit any taste.
To see it all in the city that never sleeps, you’d have to never sleep.
Faced with a flood of things to do, even the most organized, on-the-go tourists can only take a small bite out of the Big Apple. They must be selective and forego some experiences. And choosing from lots of great diversions can be hard, especially as new spots continually pop up and add to the competition.
But not all attractions merit a visit.
Some experiences, though seemingly popular, are destined to disappoint. And since there are many wonderful things to do, it’s best not to waste precious time and money on the subpar spots — spots like the Museum of Ice Cream.
Prospective visitors to the Museum of Ice Cream should go elsewhere— especially if they’re fans of museums or ice cream. Because this is what you get instead…
If you’re lucky enough to visit this magically popular marketing stunt in summertime, they give you twenty minutes to prep beforehand: time to queue up on the stinky NYC sidewalk, fry in the scorching summer sun and become desperately ready for ice cream and A/C.
When I visited, my companions and I—having sweat off a collective 10 pounds in the wait — stepped gratefully into the cool reception area of this pink! pink! pink! maze, our appetites large for two things: the classic, creamy, cold dessert we know to be ice cream and some new knowledge about the stuff. Forty five minutes later, we emerged from what is advertised as a two-and-a-half-hour experience feeling dizzy, bewildered and unsatisfied on both fronts.
The word “museum” typically connotes exhibits, artifacts, demonstrations, explanations, models, photos — vehicles for conveying information. What Museum of Ice Cream offers instead is a self-guided stroll through a labyrinth of vaguely ice cream-inspired photo ops.
While some of its rooms feature ice cream-related decor and ice cream-inspired puns, the museum does not make any real attempt to educate its patrons on ice cream. During our visit, my companions and I discovered only two features reminiscent of an informative museum experience:
Before you enter the museum proper, they hold you in a hallway whose dizzying wallpaper creates the effect of a nauseating optical illusion (because who doesn’t want to feel nauseated while thinking about ice cream?). Stuck onto this wallpaper are some fun facts about ice cream that you might choose to read as entertainment while you wait. Since we found these tidbits in the reception area, we thought they’d be only a teaser for what was to come.
But these random facts comprised the most informative part of the entire experience. The only other educative tool we discovered was a map pinpointing different kinds of ice cream around the globe. If we hadn’t been sure gelato was Italian and mochi Japanese, now we definitely were.
There could have been a demonstration of the ice cream-making process, a model of a retro ice cream parlor, or a presentation on popular brands that have attained frozen dessert fame. They could teach visitors about the invention of the ice cream sandwich, Ben & Jerry’s pint-sized success, the history of the ice cream truck, the difference between ice cream and gelato, and modern innovations in dairy-free ice cream alternatives. But alas…
Resigned to the absence of the museum element, my companions and I consoled ourselves: at least there would be delicious ice cream samples.
Tickets promise all-you-can-eat ice cream. Ten minutes into the experience, you realize that the edible part might be the only redeeming quality. Had there been a design-your-own-sundae bar, we might have forgotten our other frustrations altogether. After all, ice cream can heal many wounds.
But after tasting what was on offer, I’d have preferred a simple scoop of vanilla — heck, I’d have been grateful to slurp homemade ice cream from a ziplock bag.
One flavor they serve is called “unicorn.” When I asked the staff member serving samples what unicorn tastes like, and she responded dutifully and dreadfully, “It tastes like magic,” I should have seen the red flags and run for the (Ample) hills.
But I didn’t. I, like my companions, tried the unicorn concoction and could not brave more than a spoonful. (Of course they have to say it tastes like magic, I thought; there’s no discernible natural flavor.)
Even the less bizarre flavors on offer are barely enjoyable. The samples are scarcely chilled, brightly-dyed sugar globs. Creamy deliciousness is not on the menu. The only recognizable ice cream attribute is…softness. (At least you don’t have to chew?)
As you exit, you pass a stand offering what looks like safe, familiar ice cream. But as this ice cream is not included in your entry ticket, and your appetite has already been ruined, you hardly feel inclined to buy a cone.
Even if you can still stomach a few scoops, at this point you’re almost out the door and steps away from other ice cream spots. New York has plenty fabulous ice cream joints, any of which would outdo this place. Even Mister Softee popsicles, or that vanilla soft serve they serve at the Ikea checkout, would be a step up.
So the Museum of Ice Cream lacks in museum and ice cream. But it does have plenty of the following:
- PINK!!! floors, walls, lights, balloons and other fixtures
- A table set for an Alice in Wonderland-like tea party
- The feeling of ice cream: the giddiness, the colorfulness, the childlike chaos
- Many hanging bananas (?)
- A butterfly throne (??)
- A wall of sprinkles (okay, this one’s fair)
- A wall of magnetic letters with which to spell out your dreams
- Air that is 40% body odor and 60% high-fructose corn syrup
- Rooms that make you suspect you’re being drugged, punked, or are simply not awake
- A disconcertingly phallic ice cream scoop sculpture
- Playground structures presumably meant to elicit childlike play in all ages:
A tiny bounce-less bounce house, a kid-infested ball pit featuring an adult-only corner, a twisty slide that serves as centerpiece to the whole place,
and swings, positioned right next to a wall that you may smack against on the upswing. (Were any engineers consulted in the making of this place?)
- Food samples that make you ask the same about chefs
- Staff who seem ready to drown themselves in a pool of ice cream soup
and
- Many photo ops. Despite its shortcomings, Museum of Ice Cream is Instagrammable.
It seems Gen Z has convinced industries it’s profitable to sacrifice quality for Instagrammability. Zero minutes of ice-cream related research went into this establishment because zero minutes were necessary for good business — offer great photo ops and people will accept a much lower experiential bar.
Ultimately, the misnomer is what troubles me most about Museum of Ice Cream. I take no issue with the idea of a photo op palace, a sanctuary for collecting Instagram content. But the name of a place has to match the experience offered.
For instance, Museum of Ice Cream might more appropriately be called:
Psychedelic Sugar High Land
Photo Op Playground
We Can’t Remember What Ice Cream Is…But We Think it Feels Something Like This!
