At Maggie Moo’s Ice Cream and Treatery, patrons can sample a huge menu of ice cream and other treats made fresh daily to slap a smile on any face and massage taste buds with sugary strokes. Try ice cream in flavor combinations such as Strawberry Skateboard with sprinkles, gummy bears, and marshmallows, or Cotton Candy Ski Jump with M&Ms and mini marshmallows. Ice-cream cupcakes ($12.95/6-pack) can be enjoyed with a spoon or spoon-fingers. Dream cakes on the other hand, come in appropriately oneiric flavors such as Maggie's Mud and Chocolate Heaven, and are available in 6-inch, 8-inch, and sheet-cake sizes. Ice-cream pizzas, made from Udderly Cream ice cream fashioned into 14-inch pies and topped with red frosting and white-chocolate curls (additional toppings are available), will perplex party attendees before blasting away reservations with deliciousness.
The founders of Orange Leaf started their business with the goal of finding a middle ground between rich scoops of ice cream and bland yogurt. Mission accomplished: they have created more than 65 tasty flavors, including pumpkin pie, gingerbread, blueberry banana, white chocolate, and Dole pineapple, that are both nutritious and tasty. After customers self-pump their selected flavors—which rotate regularly—they add toppings such as cereal, candy, nuts, and fruit. With finishing touches in place, a staff member weighs creations to price them or to determine their class in the shop’s underground yogurt-fighting ring.
Each Candyopolis is home to more than 1,000 different varieties of sweets––everything from Depression-era favorites such as licorice, Herbert Hoovers, and "chewing dirt" to the latest wave of sugary and sour confections (Toxic Waste sour candy, $1.99). Retro sweet teeth sink into Abba Zaba candy bars ($7.99 per pound), Big Hunk ($1.49), and the Holy Trinity for chewing connoisseurs: Beemans, Black Jack, and Clove Gum ($1.50 each). Imported and domestic chocolates cohabitate peacefully in neighboring bulk bins, and insurgent bands of gummy worms build IEDs out of Pop Rocks ($0.99) and plot military coups over Candyopolis's ruling class of imported Haribo gummy bears ($3.99 per half pound), which also come dipped in chocolate ($4.99 per half pound). With 48 flavors of Jelly Bellies ($5.99 per half pound), 50 unique PEZ dispensers ($2.49 each), and 21 colors of M&Ms ($5.99 per half pound), each year Candyopolis exports a colorful crop of treats directly to the bellies of local children, children at heart, and hopelessly misinformed health nuts everywhere.
While the walls’ crimson mosaic tiles glitter in the sunlight that filters in through large windows, CherryBerry’s guests pump out rotating flavors of frozen yogurt and lounge on puffy, mod-style furniture. With each creamy bite, it becomes more evident that the yogurt was made from all-natural ingredients: the strawberry contains tiny chunks of fruit, and the chocolate’s rich flavor could never have come from a powdered mix.
With more than 50 fruit, nut, and candy options overflowing from its bins and canisters, the topping bar plays home to fresh berries and healthful granola as well as candy-coated chocolates and sprinkles. Like a tag-team dance-off at the U.N., the yogurt itself features four types of live and active cultures, all of which aid in digestion. Low-fat, fat-free, and gluten-free flavors abound, as do sorbet options with no dairy and Splenda-sweetened yogurts with no added sugar.
Yogurt Bliss provides frozen treats that have been certified by the National Yogurt Association to contain live and active cultures. Sweet teeth choose from original tart or nontart flavors ($0.38/oz.) including graham-cracker pie and pumpkin spice, new autumnal taste sensations that join decadent brethren such as cinnamon roll or cookies 'n' cream and fruity cousins such as orange sorbet or strawberry. Extra-health-conscious patrons can opt for no-sugar-added varieties or ask that the shop’s floor temporarily become a treadmill. Tasty hailstorms rain down from the candy gods with a choice of more than 50 toppings. Swirls of dessert also strut their stuff in Yogurt Bliss's milk shakes and smoothies, which are created by handing buckets of yogurt to 1950s-era sock-hop participants.