Straus Review No. 1: My biggest problem with the category of strawberry ice creams is when they toss in large chunks of fruit. This is especially true with cheaper brands that may be including them to show their work — see, we have real fruit in here! Even as their ice cream base reeks of “strawberry” flavoring and red dye. It’s a bit of psychology and marketing that ends with me biting into icy, mealy berries that were likely never that good even in their prime. So, what if instead you throw in lots of tiny berry pieces? If your ice cream is as good as Straus Family Creamery’s, then sign me up.

What I liked: The freshness. This is maybe the freshest-tasting strawberry ice cream I’ve ever had. This is like getting a cup of ice cream at a farmers market in early spring. These high-quality strawberries are chopped fine and tossed with sugar. This is key for their textural survival as they are folded into a basic sweet cream base. And California’s Straus has one of the best plain bases out there thanks to their organic North Bay dairy, thickened only with egg yolks. Their non-homogenized milk creates that exceptional mouthfeel that gives me homemade ice cream vibes. However, this isn’t going to be the smooth experience of something like Straus’ superb Mint Chip. Because we are dealing with frozen fruit after all, you do get a bit of an icy crunch throughout — but it actually works in a refreshing way. I was worried at first, but then I really enjoyed that texture, though I can see others not appreciating it. These little berry pieces aren’t mushy or difficult to chew (see “science corner” below for why). And when this ice cream starts to melt a little, it gets even better, serving up a Strawberries and Cream experience that would be the envy of any spectator at Wimbledon.

What could be better: I do enjoy this level of strawberry, though it pales a bit compared to some of the heavy-hitters in the premium strawberry game who add fruit to their bases. I’m not sure how it would turn out, but perhaps a concentrated, roasted berry swirl (which removes a lot of that water content) would offer an intriguing flavor and textural contrast with the fresh berry pieces? Or maybe it would ruin that farmers market freshness? I think leave it as is for a unique profile.

Science corner: I’ve been enjoying learning about the science of ice cream as I review flavors. Now I know the term cryoprotectant: Straus tosses their fruit in organic sugar before freezing, which acts as a natural barrier to lower the freezing point. This prevents the berries from turning into tooth-cracking ice cubes, keeping them nice and soft.

How it compares: For my occasional spring strawberry series, I’m trying all sorts of strawberry-related flavors to celebrate spring. (When we roll into summer months, I’d love to tackle some raspberry and other berry flavors, too.) I’m revisiting a few favorites like Häagen-Dazs while mostly seeking out new flavors to try, whether it’s ice cream, sorbet or sherbet. So stay tuned to see how they shape up. I will do a ranking at some point, and this one will be among the best, though not quite at the top (we have a couple of very good ones coming). If you have suggestions, let me know in the comments!

Possible pairing: Make your own Neapolitan with Straus’ Vanilla Bean and Dutch Chocolate flavors.

Final thought: Rich, cold cream meets sweet and tart strawberries? This doesn’t feel like it came from the grocery store.

Score: 9.3/10

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SPRING STRAWBERRIES
Part I: McConnell’s Strawberries & Shortbread Cookies (4.8/10)

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PINT SNAPSHOT: Straus Family Creamery Strawberry

>The Look: Sweet cream tinted pale pink in spots by the little berry gems
The Facts: 404g | 15% Butterfat | 840 Calories (280 for 2/3 cup)
The Feel: Tiny berries bring a refreshing iciness to a base with superb mouthfeel
The Theme: A spring day out at the farmers market
The Flavor: Exceedingly fresh strawberry with lovely dairy undertones
The Verdict: A unique treatment that shows I can love icy berries, if done right
The Score: 9.3/10

Van Leeuwen Review No. 1: When trying to find a flavor from the beautiful Van Leeuwen wall of color in the freezer aisle, make it easy and look for one that says honeycomb. Whether original or one of the spinoffs —Caramelized Banana (orange) and Peanut Butter Brownie (blue) — these rank among the brand’s best flavors. My mistake was waiting for the one blazing at me in bright yellow as clear as the sun. Oh, that’s just vanilla, I thought. Why not get those honeycomb bits in a more flavorful base, or with other mix-ins? The error of my way was shown to me amid a clearance sale a month back. One quart of Honeycomb sat lonely on the bottom shelf, at half the price of the pint above. If there was ever a time to try, it was then. And I was rewarded not only with a delicious vanilla base, but a magic trick that unfolded over the course of a week in my freezer.

What is honeycomb?: Before we get to the comparison, let’s do a quick explanation for those not familiar with this confection. First, don’t expect actual honey. The name refers to the hexagonal patterns of a beehive that this airy candy resembles. Honeycomb candy — also known as sponge toffee, seafoam, hokey pokey and other regional names — is a simple delight that shows off the chemistry of the kitchen. It’s made by adding baking soda to a hot sugar syrup, causing a reaction that traps carbon dioxide bubbles and creates a  sponge-like structure when the toffee sets hard. While you don’t have bees working their magic, you can get a honey-adjacent flavor from the caramelization of sugar. You can get honeycomb candy in big chunks (often dipped in chocolate), but here it’s provided in teeth-friendly bits.

Honeycomb: About that magic trick…. It’s only revealed to those who show patience. If you’re the type to rush home and scarf a full pint — no judgment! — you’ll definitely get an excellent vanilla, with Van Leeuwen’s softer French custard base heavy with egg yolks (it’s a little airier than, say, Häagen-Dazs). Immediately opened, those honeycomb gems pop like bits of glass — pleasantly. But VL has left them naked, exposed to the unstabilized elements. Without the safety of gums to lock water in place, the candy's high sugar content is a magnet pulling moisture from the base. If you only want the crunch, eat quickly, as a transformation is taking place in your freezer. But wait a day or two, and there’s something much better. You’ll find the candy pieces half-melted into the vanilla, spreading their caramelized essence. In this state, these small pockets feel like excavating for gold, with a pleasant chewiness rather than crisp shatter. If (no, when) I repurchase I’ll probably end my experiment here, as this was the Honeycomb ice cream I was looking for. But the following stages in this science experiment also have merits, as a day or two later the candy has completely dissolved, suffusing the high-fat custard with its concentrated syrup. The result? Like a vanilla and Dulce de Leche met halfway in the middle. Finally, about a week in, that heavy syrup has rained slowly down, taking on its final form as a puddle at the bottom of your pint (or quart!) Now the ice cream has just a faint essence of caramel, like aging spirits in oak barrels. Of course, you can spoon back in some of that syrup. All in all, I have never quite seen anything like this: An ice cream whose flavor and texture evolves as it sits in the freezer. While I tried the two other honeycomb flavors last year and quite enjoyed them, their busier compositions didn’t reveal their tricks to me. Or had I eaten them too fast? Of course, in the name of science, as soon as I found VL pints on sale we had to give them a try.

Caramelized Banana Honeycomb: This is the next step up in complexity, as you get a flavored base to pair with the candy. And it’s a nice pairing, as the honeycomb nods to the caramelization of the fruit. You don’t see this kind of banana ice cream often. By roasting them to banish water, there’s none of that icy crunch that’s the bane of most fruit flavors’ existence. Instead we get jammy fruit. On first bite, it’s a strong banana bread flavor. I enjoy it, as I do the pop of the candy. But I make sure it goes back in the freezer after a handful of bites so I can witness the next stage. Now we’re getting the half-melted caramel pockets. These aren’t quite as satisfying here or in the peanut butter base as they are in the stark vanilla, with nowhere to hide. In fact, I think this pint is probably at its best when they have just dissolved, offering bits of caramel punch, and tilting the banana bread vibe toward Bananas Foster. I could have seen this being the standout pint had they leaned into the caramelization with a buttery rum swirl redolent of brown sugar and cinnamon. As is, it’s very tasty, but not quite the magic of the plain honeycomb nor the salty-sweet extravaganza that follows.

Peanut Butter Brownie Honeycomb: This pint already had me at frozen peanut butter pockets. Honeycomb and brownies are just delightful extras at that point. And let’s not forget the peanut butter base. It’s good, and only improved with these accents as VL gives its honeycomb the Ben & Jerry’s treatment. The brownies are decent (especially for ice cream brownies). Like in the banana flavor, the candy offers nice pop on day 1, but is at its best a few days later weeping into pools. Want to try one last experiment with these flavors? When each is half-finished, nestle them together in the same pint, trying to combine them a bit for a caramel peanut butter-banana experience.

The verdict: I would never have thought the plain Jane would triumph in this flavor-packed face-off. But there’s just something so satisfying, unique and delicious to watching that sweet transformation take place without the obfuscation of additional flavors and inclusions. That’s not to say the others don’t have their merits: the banana when you want something a bit sweeter and fruity — a banana bread for your unorthodox ice cream brunch — and the peanut butter when you crave salty, sweet and loaded with mix-ins.

The scores
Honeycomb: 9.3/10
Peanut Butter Brownie Honeycomb: 9/10
Caramelized Banana Honeycomb: 8.2/10

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Van Leeuwen's Magic World of Honeycomb

Flavor	The Stats (Cal/Wt)	Vibe & Mix-ins	Best Stage	Best for...	Score
Original	750 / ~270g	Vanilla & Caramel bits	Stage 2	The Purist	9.3
Banana	750 / ~275g	Banana Bread & Candy	Stage 3	The Brunch Crowd	8.2
Peanut Butter Brownie	900 / ~296g	Salty PB, Brownies & Candy	Stage 3	Mix-in Fanatics	9.0

The Stages of Evolution

This timeline is an estimate based on my experience; your mileage may vary depending on freezer temp, container size and how often you open the lid to sample.

• Stage 1. Unmelted: The candy hasn't yet absorbed the base's moisture, staying glass-sharp and crisp. (First 24-48 hours)
• Stage 2. Half-melted: The uncoated honeycomb acts as a sugar magnet, pulling water from the base and weeping into the custard for a pleasant, toffee-like chew. (Around Days 2-3)
• Stage 3. Fully melted: The candy structure disappears into a concentrated syrup, infusing the custard with its deep caramelized essence. (Around Days 3-5)
• Stage 4. The Great Migration: The sugar syrup—denser than the aerated ice cream base—becomes a caramel rain, ending in a rich, dark puddle at the bottom of your pint. (Day 7+)

Graeter’s Review No. 11: Who would have thought we’d have a pair of dentists to thank for cotton candy? One helped invent “fairy floss” in 1897 ahead of its debut at the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair. And a second dentist coined the term cotton candy in 1921. Were they trying to bring in new business? I guess they did have some altruism in mind. They were aiming to create a less sugary treat than popular candy bars and caramel apples. Graeter’s pulls off a similar feat for us ice cream connoisseurs — bringing something more adult and balanced to a whimsical carnival flavor whose mere appearance is usually enough to have your teeth aching in an anticipatory sugar high. Cotton Candy ice cream falls into a category of sweet, colorful kiddie flavors I usually steer clear of like bubble gum and birthday cake. I had never tried a single one of these till Graeter’s tempted me with their Birthday Bash — a surprise winner. Could they do it again? Let’s scoop and find out.

What I liked: First off, the color. Some of these blue ice creams —from neon to smurf — I find unappetizing the moment the lid comes off. But this shade is paler, tilting to seafoam, like a lagoon or an inviting tiki drink. And the taste surprised me, too. Usually when you see these treats they are just labeled “cotton candy-flavored.” But what does that mean? I assume it’s some sort of artificial flavoring, but I wasn’t sure what to expect. I took a look online and was told most brands do blue raspberry and vanilla-strawberry for pink. I was a bit worried about another Blue Moon-like flavor (speaking of azure disappointments). But I didn’t taste any fruit. After a few bites, I picked up a toasted sugar flavor, maybe a hint of vanilla. The flavor it most reminded me also comes from Graeter’s: Creme Brûlée, which I tasted in their holiday pack. I had to look this up to be sure. The core flavor of their Cotton Candy is ethyl maltol — providing a caramelized sugar taste — and a little faux vanilla in the finish. For these reviews, I’ve been enjoying learning some of the science behind our favorite flavors. The Creme Brûlée relies on that same flavor molecule. So they are an interesting exercise in burnt sugar siblings — one fresher-faced, one who’s aged into some sophistication. For Cotton Candy, the molecule apparently mimics the smell of sugar being heated in a spinner, while in the Creme Brûlée it’s the step where that signature sugar crust is torched. What a crazy/fun tasting that could be! With Creme Brûlée, you get caramelized sugar bits, but here it’s some pink and purple sugar sparkle. That’s interesting background — well maybe only to me — but I will say that crunch takes it up a notch, adding a bit of aesthetic sparkle and textural interest against the signature French Pot texture (as usual, no complaints, only compliments, on the craft of their ice cream).

What could be better: After all that, do I really like this flavor? Not particularly, even though I think it’s really well done. I guess because I have no nostalgic link to cotton candy ice cream, there’s not an emotional hook in play that I imagine makes this appealing to so many adults who enjoyed it as a kid and now appreciate the mediated sugar hit. I think it’s interesting to try once, but pretty one note. I’ve had it in my freezer for weeks and it’s still half-full. It’s more pleasing for one, maybe two bites than diving in.

How it compares: It looks like Baskin-Robbins helped popularize this one in scoop shops. Today, their version is sold in their grocery pints, too. I’d guess that one and the Blue Bell are the most prominent versions. Since they lean into a fruitier profile, I’m curious to hear from those who enjoy these (or disliked them) about what flavors pop through and their sweetness level.

Possible pairings: Want to experience a science experiment in its tastiest form? Try this flight of Graeter’s flavors to witness the full evolution of sugar, right on your taste buds: Move from Cotton Candy (pale spun sugar) to Creme Brûlée (toasted marshmallow custard), then to Toffee Chocolate Chip (buttery, brittle crunch), and finally to Original Salted Caramel (elite, amber complexities).

Final thought: This is the second time that Graeter’s has allowed me to see one of those often lackluster kids’ flavors with fresh eyes. It’s too bad they aren’t in the Pink Bubblegum business to make it 3 for 3. While this Cotton Candy is plenty whimsical — a lagoon-blue bridge between carnival nostalgia and high-end craft — it’s not wonderful like Birthday Bash. Still, without the teeth-aching sweetness level that afflicts other brands, you’d have to think Graeter’s would get the blessing from 9 out of 10 dentists.

Score: 6.3/10

PINT SNAPSHOT: Graeter’s Cotton Candy

>The Look: Pretty lagoon blue with a pink and purple sugar sparkle
The Facts: 402g | 18% Butterfat | 1,010 Calories (340 per 2/3 cup serving)
The Feel: Premium French Pot density with a crystalline sugar crunch
The Theme: High-end carnival whimsy
The Flavor: Light toasted sugar and a hint of vanilla
The Verdict: Well-crafted, but without the pull of nostalgia, it’s a one-and-done pint
The Score: 6.3/10

McConnell's Review No. 3: Should celebrities use their large platforms for good? Should they advocate for social justice to their millions of followers? Should they weigh in on one of the most important issues in the world today — namely the waning availability of premium ice cream? No matter where you stand in the political spectrum in today’s America, I think we ice cream fanatics can all appreciate the lengths that iconic singer-actress Barbra Streisand has gone to for us to bring McConnell’s discontinued Brazilian Coffee back to freezer shelves. This is a woman who has a fully functioning sweet shop in the faux mall of her mansion basement. She didn’t have to give voice to a legion of caffeinated sweet tooths in her recent memoir. But there she was talking about coffee ice cream — a lot, and even offered up her own easy recipe. It’s safe to say McConnell’s isn’t using marshmallows or instant coffee in their suite of coffee flavors, among the most sophisticated in the ice cream world. But they heard Babs loud and clear. Not only did they send her a personal shipment of Brazilian Coffee — the more mellow cousin of their gritty flagship java pint. They also brought it back to stores recently, so we can all live like a star for a day. Of course, sadly without our own subterranean bazaar featuring cobblestone paths, an antique doll shop and an archival fashion boutique. But how about that ice cream? It’s excellent, the standout of a quartet that also features Coffee, formerly Turkish Coffee, now just Coffee; a twist on a cafe drink with Hazelnut Latte; and one of the flavors in a collaboration with another iconic Southern California brand, See’s Candy. See’s Molasses Chips — which I suspect could be found in Barbra’s confectionery — bring one of the most delicious mix-ins that a coffee ice cream has ever met. Just be clear: That base is not Brazilian Coffee (these are all distinct bases, no recycling here). That one is enjoyed simply, without garnish, as Miss Streisand prefers. According to 2023’s “My Name is Barbra,” she took issue when a McConnell’s shop intruded on her “smooth as silk" ice cream with chocolate chips, and then later encouraged fans to ask McConnell’s for its permanent return. Alas, this current return is labeled as a limited release, so get it while you can. And thank Babs for raising her voice in service of great ice cream. Like we’ve seen, it can make a difference. Maybe we should call this the New Streisand Effect.

Coffee: I tried this one a few years back when it was known as Turkish Coffee. That provenance intrigued me. I thought maybe it would have some sort of spice. I had read Turkish coffee often has cardamom. However, here the name actual referred to the grind — an ultra-fine flour-like powder rather than regular coffee grounds. It took the name Coffee when the Brazilian version shifted to limited status and lost the need for differentiation. Even with its locational adjective stripped, Coffee brings powerhouse flavor and complexity, and a hint of bitterness, that feels like artisanal barista experience transported to a scoop shop. I don’t have the bean-loving palate to assess all of the lovely nuances I’m certain have been painstakingly curated by McConnell’s ice cream visionaries. But I certainly get the industrial strength caffeine hit thanks to the double punch of cold brew and espresso infused into the dairy base and all those tiny flecks of crushed espresso beans. Texturally, I’m not a fan of the grit — just like Barbra I prefer a smooth-as-silk experience. But I do certainly appreciate this. There’s no off-putting burnt notes. This is the kind of coffee you want when you’re hitting the books late or toiling over breathless dessert reviews for Reddit. Coffee level: 9; overall quality: 7.6/10

Brazilian Coffee: Now this is my type of coffee, more of a creamy crowd-pleaser but still fairly bold, none of the espresso bean grit. That said, I can see why that other coffee won the battle for single-name Diva status (Cher! Madonna!… Barbra?!) as this eats like a slightly fancier, perked-up version of my all-time favorite, Häagen-Dazs. You can’t beat the Coffee GOAT at its own game after all. For me, and I imagine many others, that specific flavor lives in my memory (misty, coffee-colored memories of the way we were eating ice cream...) McConnell’s wanted something all their own, and they have it with their flagship Coffee. I can’t think of another one quite of its intensity, complexity and quality combo. But this is the McConnell’s coffee ice cream I want. Maybe not a whole industrial freezer full like Ms. Streisand. Is it those Brazilian beans? H-D uses them, too, so I imagine they have a direct pathway to my taste buds. McConnell’s says it’s paying homage to the Mogiana region's labor-intensive growing methods and joining that with their prized Central Coast grass-fed milk. It’s an artisanal fusion of two stalwarts of agricultural tradition. But this one also feels a little more exclusive given the nature of its A-list return. The coffee level has gone up a notch, and so has the acidity and butterfat. This sits heavier on the spoon. Like Graeter’s there’s an impressive density here, a wonderfully creamy mouthfeel. It makes you want to enjoy it in bites rather than bowls. The H-D, by contrast, hits that ideal textural and flavor sweet spot of “I just need to have one more bite.” So, whether by merit or nostalgia, Häagen-Dazs still reigns supreme for me. Coffee level: 7.5; overall quality: 9/10

Coffee with Molasses Chips (See’s collection): I enjoyed this one last summer when I bought the See’s collection (which includes seven pints featuring the L.A. candy maker’s treats; most are excellent), but I liked it a lot more this time. The medium-roast coffee-infused base feels more welcoming and rounded — and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m tasting it next to other powerhouse pints, or because they have been a lot more generous with the fudge sauce this time. Of course, both times, those crunchy, airy Molasses Chips (both milk and dark here) are a standout. They shatter on your teeth (dentists beware), not unlike toffee pieces. But having tried the crunch bars that Ben & Jerry’s used in their flavor, these bring a chocolatey, caramelized snap, maybe a hint of toasted-sugar complexity from the molasses, while the B&J mix-ins conjured the taste sensation of an unwashed charcoal grill. Last time, I got a slight bitterness (either from the candy or the base) but I think the heavy hand of sweet fudge waved that away this time, just leaving a lovely mocha experience. Coffee level: 8; overall score: 8.8/10

Hazelnut Latte: This feels like a jar of Nutella where the tide has turned, and hazelnut has won the war for dominance. And where’s the coffee? Latte evokes a sweet, creamy drink with some sort of coffee notes and this pint gives me straight-up hazelnut, no chaser. Even the chocolate — usually a forceful presence in a McConnell’s pint (like the one above) – seems scared to assert itself, thanks to this bully hazelnut. While I do think they captured the nut perfectly — and hazelnut fans should scoop this up, no doubt — it’s not perfect for me. Nut flavors need strong companions or they’re just fatty and one-note. But I wasn’t sure if it was just vibes, maybe I’m not a fan of hazelnut’s solo work. So looking up the process on this one, it looks like they make their own house hazelnut butter. This is not extract or syrup. This is very high-quality work. Noted. But what happens here is McConnell’s usually sky-high butterfat (often upward of 18%) has been hijacked by nuts. I’ve been learning lots of interesting sciency things writing these reviews that I only half-pretend to understand — if only high school chem had a dairy week. Tasting Jeni’s House Coffee, I learned fat can coat individuals’ tongues in different ways and affect how we perceive flavor. And so I’m not perceiving any coffee really and the chocolate feels slightly ephemeral despite its visual appearance. I expected a creamy, nutty coffee-house delight. Instead I got what ate to me like a jar of frozen hazelnut spread. Coffee level: 1; overall score: 5.5/10

Final thought: One day I hope to score an invite to Ms. Streisand’s basement mall for a scoop of Brazilian coffee. I’d even settle for a treat from her popcorn maker or FroYo machine. I wouldn’t expect a parting gift, but since she does have a gift store, perhaps some of her pink glassware or vintage children’s shoes? Better yet, a pint to go from the Diva’s personal McConnell’s freezer. That Brazilian Coffee that unites us in sugary, caffeinated joy — if nothing else — proved the high point of my own tasting. In a one-bedroom apartment, sadly without a furrier, a jewelry store, not even a gift wrap room. If I were in a mocha sort of mood, I’d grab that See’s pint, while letting the latte linger a bit longer in the back of the freezer. And if I needed to do an impromptu long-haul trucking shift at 2 in the morning, I’d grab that high-octane Coffee. No longer Turkish Coffee. Just Coffee.

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COFFEE TALK
Follow along each week as I explore the wide world of coffee ice creams

WEEK 1 | Graeter’s: Vienna Coffee (9.3), Mocha Chocolate Chip (9.3), Caramel Macchiato (9.2)
WEEK 2 | Jeni’s: House Coffee (6.8), RIP: Coffee With Cream and Sugar (6.8), Cold Brew With Coconut Cream (7.8) 
WEEK 3 | Häagen-Dazs: Coffee (10), Coffee Chip (9.3) and Coffee Almond Toffee (9.5)
WEEK 4 | Talenti: Coffee Chocolate Chip Gelato (6.2), Cold Brew Coffee Sorbetto (6.5), Italian Tiramisu Layers (8.7)
WEEK 5 | Ben & Jerry’s: Coffee Coffee BuzzBuzzBuzz! (7.7), Coffee & Fudge Chip Scoop-apalooza (7.7), Coffee Toffee Bar Crunch (3.8), Honey Graham Latte (5.6/10), Mochaccino Chip (5.2/10); Mocha Mood Pie (2.9/10), Tiramisu Topped (8)
WEEK 6 | McConnell’s

Coming up:
WEEK 7 | Northwest coffee roundup: Salt & Straw Coffee and Love Nuts, Tillamook Coffee Almond Fudge, Umpqua Caramel Cold Brew and Espresso Madness, Alden’s Cold Brew Coffee, Crooked Spoon Espresso, Snoqualmie Iced Latte, New Seasons Mocha Chip, Zupan’s Latte Chip, Bonta Gelato Coffee Chip, Pinolo Gelato’s Tiramisu

☕ The McConnell's Coffee Quartet: TL;DR

Flavor	Coffee Level	Score	The Final Word
Brazilian Coffee	7.5	9/10	The Babs-approved best: Buzzy, dense and smooth as silk.
Coffee with Molasses Chips	8	8.8/10	A textural mocha masterwork with See’s crunchy, airy, tasty candy.
Coffee (formerly Turkish Coffee)	9	7.6/10	Industrial-strength complexity and grit for the true caffeine-obsessed.
Hazelnut Latte	1	5.5/10	A rich, nut-butter bully that leaves coffee behind and chocolate muted.