Dear Mr. Emperor,

Sorry to bug you with a letter, but I couldn’t find a suggestion box at your original 32^nd Ave location, and I didn’t want to trouble your devoted employees, who were busy offering samples, filling waffle cones, and making change. Not that you need any help from us peons: you’re the Emperor of Ice Cream!

And I’m your No. 1 Fan. Seriously. I was there at Ground Zero during the soft opening, followed by the grand opening, then two or three times a week, more often six or seven, for the past however many glorious years. My doctor has some concerns about my diet owing to my weight and cholesterol levels, but only because he’s a worrywart who’s never tasted two scoops of your Almond Brittle with Salted Ganache in a sugar cone.

You’ve got your whole operation dialed in, but lately, I’ve felt like something’s missing. I’ve started craving more substantial flavors than Double Chocolate Fudge Brownie or Toasted Coconut & Fig with Honey Ganache. Maybe it’s from all that fat and sugar, I don’t know. Man cannot live by sweets alone, as they say, and you could be the one, O great & glorious Emperor, to bring us those much coveted nutrients. For example, you might offer one or more (or all) of the following flavors:

1. Smoked Ham, Baked Beans, & Black Pepper
   
2. Mom’s Meatloaf with Ketchup
   
3. BBQ Brisket & Spicy Sauce

Sounds good, right? You and I can’t be the only ones who think so. Look at the numbers from last Thanksgiving’s featured flavor, Salted Turkey with Cranberry Sauce. Not that I have the spreadsheets in front of me, you do, but everyone in line (it snaked out the door and around the corner) for three weeks running wanted a taste of it. If that’s not proof, what is?

I don’t mean to step on your toes or invade your personal/professional space. It’s your call. You’re the Emperor. But I hope you’ll give the matter the serious attention it deserves, since I (and others like me, huge fans, with the girth and avoirdupois to prove it) am counting on you.

Hail ice cream!

Sincerely yours,
Rollie G. White,
No. 1 Fan

Dear Mr. Emperor,

I really appreciate your response, and I’m glad to know you’re open to suggestion. Of course, you took your own sweet time getting back to me, but you’re the Emperor, after all, so I know you’re very busy. Perhaps, too, you had to mull over the flavor ideas I sent you, formulating recipes and sourcing organic ingredients. Everyone knows you have high standards! And so do your fans—especially me!

Then again, your letter wasn’t exactly explicit about your thoughts on my suggestions, despite the carefully worded paragraph and enclosed gift certificate for ONE FREE SCOOP, ANY FLAVOR. Which I very much appreciated, by the way. In your imperial wisdom, you knew that such a freebie would not be wasted on an aficionado such as myself. And you were right! I used it on a triple-scoop in a waffle cone—coconut buttered rum, lime-mango, and lemon pie with honey whipped cream—and paid the difference. Not in spite of the cold, dreary day, I’ll have you know, but precisely because of it. Some people scratch their heads, befuddled at how anyone could eat ice cream in the dead of winter. To these fools, I say: Ever heard of seasonal affective disorder? I say: It’s not just ice cream, it’s Emperor of Ice Cream. I say: You don’t know what love is.

Pondering, as I often do, the disputed origins of the waffle cone, I hit upon what is surely a can’t-miss idea, one related to my previous epistle. If we love waffles with ice cream, wouldn’t we also love waffles in ice cream? That led quite naturally to a whole string of possible breakfast flavors, all of them classics before their time. The sweets are easy, everyone loves sweets, but why not pair them with savory selections for greater variety, sustenance, and staying power?

1. Belgian Waffle & Canadian Bacon
   
2. Pancakes with Maple Syrup Sausage
   
3. French Toast & Honey-Glazed Ham

Doesn’t that sound delicious? Breakfast is the most important meal of the day! As an added perk, you’d be able to open your doors earlier, maybe 9 or 9:30. Your most die-hard fans (present company included) would certainly take advantage of the new hours, filling your coffers to overflowing. Who wouldn’t crave a double-scoop of such instant favorites as Denver Omelet Chunk, Biscuits & Sausage Gravy Ganache, or Eggs Benedict with Hollandaise Swirl? It’s what’s called a win-win.

As I wait with bated breath for your reply, might I make a small but important request? Don’t get me wrong, I found your previous response riveting, with its friendly tone and appreciative phrasing: We value your business, and we’re honored that you cared enough to share your thoughts with us. Still, while I know you’re busy, I would be grateful if you might tailor your remarks to the issue at hand— namely, how and when you plan to unveil these new flavors, as well as what role I might assume in the process. It’s never too soon to start thinking about a partnership! (FYI, you will always be the Emperor. If I need a title at all, perhaps King of Kings of Ice Cream would do? Or even Co-Emperor? These are minor details that can be saved for a more appropriate moment.)

I look forward to hearing your thoughts.

Yours sincerely,
Rollie G. White
No. 1 Fan

Dear Mr. Emperor,

Although I haven’t yet heard from you, I’m writing again so soon owing to a service concern I have after a recent interchange with an insubordinate employee at your 32^nd Ave location, my neighborhood ice cream shoppe (nice spelling, right?), what I often refer to as Ground Zero, since it’s where your story began. Mine, too, in a way.

Correct me if I’m wrong (and I’ve read company policy cover to cover), but each customer is entitled to as many small spoon (1/2 oz.) flavor samples as he (or she) so desires. Yesterday afternoon, I was exercising my tasting rights and privileges to the fullest, struggling to determine the precise flavor combination for the weather and my mood. I’ll grant that it was an especially busy time, but I had waited my turn, just like everybody else. After tasting three or five or eight flavors, I requested to sample them again in a different order, as the juxtapositions are critical, I’m sure you’ll agree, especially when ordering a multi-scoop, multi-flavor waffle cone. I’m sorry to report that one of your minions, dear Emperor, failed to live up to our high standards. His name tag read CRAIG. To my perfectly reasonable request, Craig said, “You’ve had more than enough, Tub. Just look in the mirror!” I calmly explained that nowhere is it written that customers are limited to one taste per flavor per visit. Craig (brown hair, crooked teeth, nasty demeanor) sneered and said, “Now if you’re not gonna order, I’ll have to ask you to make room for other customers.” I could have insulted his physiognomy and breeding. He would’ve been an easy target. Instead, I stood there, glowering and turning red, until the manager Liz, of blonde tresses and angelic countenance, led me into her office.

She listened to my frustrations, then comped me a scoop of Lemon Curd Fudge Chip in a sugar cone. Not my favorite, but I appreciated the gesture.

I knew, O wise Emperor, that you would want to hear about this service concern ASAP. We cannot have miscreants such as Craig sullying our hard-earned reputation. I will look forward to his absence upon my next visit.

Ever yours,
Rollie G. White
No. 1 Fan

Dear Mr. Emperor,

I try not to imagine what may have become of you. Have you drowned in a huge vat of milk? Have you been buried beneath giant bags of rock salt? Have you fallen into your ice cream maker and been mangled by the enormous paddles? If the worst hasn’t, in fact, come to pass, why haven’t you written?

I’m now in a quandary, I must admit. Inspired by our correspondence, I developed two of my flavors, Chunky Chips & Salsa and Chicken Tikka Masala Swirl. They’re both scrumptious, striking just the right balance of salty and sweet. (Each has several possible spinoff flavors, too, such as Chips & Queso and Garlic Pistachio Naan.) R&D took far longer than I anticipated, and I sank in a mountain of my own money, but “Everything for the Emperor!” It’s my new mantra.

So imagine my surprise when I arrived at the 32^nd Ave location (where, it appears, Craig may still be on payroll) and Liz, of blonde tresses and angelic countenance, turned me away. The interchange was curt, impersonal, and went something like:

Her:  What’s in the ice chest?

Me:  The Emperor’s new flavors.

Her:  I don’t understand.

Me:  For the soon-to-be-unveiled What’s Cookin’? line.

Her:  The what?

Me:  Talk to the Emperor.

Her:  Who?

Me:  Etc.

Perhaps Manager Liz was dropped on her head as a baby? Or could she be suffering the first symptoms of early onset Alzheimer’s? Lovely though she may be, she’s proved herself incompetent, so should be relieved of her managerial responsibilities posthaste. I’m sure we’re both on the same page here.

Even worse, she spread her treachery far and wide, as I met with a similar response at every store I visited: 11^th and Williams, N. Tennessee, Jameson Square. They wouldn’t let me on the bus towing my enormous ice chest, and though I tried to borrow a neighbor’s car, I wound up pounding the pavement. Which explains why I only made it to four of the seven locations: I was simply too exhausted, mentally and physically, to carry on. Liz had sabotaged me at every turn. She clearly doesn’t grasp the privileged nature of our relationship, so if we must keep her on, I suggest you inform her of our imminent partnership forthwith.

At any rate, I will begin market-testing the new flavors immediately and have my report to you PDQ.

Onward,
Rollie G. White
No. 1 Fan

P.S. How does Emperor & Co. Ice Cream strike you?

Dear Emperor,

Cease and Desist? I didn’t read the fine print, but the order you had your henchmen at Alatto, Gloss, & Eiskreme deliver was clear enough. But there’s much I don’t understand. Such as where on earth is this coming from?

Didn’t we have a professional understanding? An informal arrangement? A gentlemen’s agreement, if you will? Don’t we still? If you were having second thoughts (though why would you?), you could have spoken to me, man to man, without the wasteful and, frankly, insulting intervention of a third party, namely your legal counsel. Do you realize how much this is costing us, in terms of wasted man-hours and legal fees? A bundle! I checked.

So I suggest we address what is surely a simple misunderstanding, and we do it in person.

Let’s take a meeting, as they say.  I’m free anytime.

I hope to hear from you at your earliest possible convenience.

Sincerely,
Rollie G. White
Emperor & Co. Ice Cream

Dear Sir:

When I spotted security guards at the doors, I worried there might’ve been an armed robbery, since at any given time, there’s loads of cash in the till. (Probably too much; let’s give it some thought.) Or an altercation, someone with a violent streak crashing from a sugar high? Or even a terrorist attack! You never know these days.

But you’d given those rent-a-cops my description, hadn’t you? Though it was more likely Craig or Liz who did your dirty work for you. Not that it was all that difficult, as unpleasant tasks go: I’m hard to miss!

Now, my local ice cream shoppe (funny, right?) is one thing, but every Emperor of Ice Cream location? It’s nothing short of a knife in the back, especially with new flavors in development and a partnership in the works. I simply cannot understand it, sir. I’m at a complete loss. It makes no sense. Though I’m afraid it tells me something about your character, your impulsive nature, your tendency to overreact, to blow small misunderstandings completely out of proportion. Why cut off your nose to spite your face? Why shoot yourself in the foot? Especially when your nose is my nose, sir. Your foot my very own.

I vow to mull over a pair of new flavors, Baguette, Brie, & Green Apple and Texas Frito Pie, till I can get my head and heart around your betrayal.

Respectfully,
Rollie G. White
Emperor & Co. Ice Cream

Sir:

I received your missive today by way of private courier. “You’ve been served,” he said, after handing me a sheaf of papers in an official-looking envelope. Now you bring the weight of the courts to bear on what must surely be a gross misunderstanding? No two ways about it: I am sorely disappointed.

Had you taken the time to read my correspondence, you would have known about my market-testing plan from the very beginning. I’ve got nothing to hide. You of all people must understand the importance of integrating our new flavors into the current menu at as many of our locations as possible. Given the nature of our “situation,” I had to go about the whole thing with great delicacy and discretion. But I’m a resourceful person, as you well know, and Craig was the weak link. A small bribe was all it took. You should have fired him when you had the chance. Your only responsibility was to crunch the numbers, analyzing sales data so we would have a sense of customer interest and preference. Give and take: that’s how a partnership works. I put my hope, trust, and faith in you, but you didn’t hold up your end of the bargain.

As I don’t relish the thought of sharing a cramped concrete box with a cellmate named Slayer, I will abide by the restraining order. Reluctantly. You know as well as I do it’s not good for business.

Cordially,
Rollie G. White
Aficionado of Ice Cream & Small Businessman

Dear “Emperor,” so-called,

You have no one to blame but yourself. So when the Triple Fudge Brownie hits the fan, as it surely will, and soon, you’ll wonder why you weren’t more gracious and open to new ideas. Because your—not our!—enterprise has begun to flag, right? You’ve seen a significant slide over the past several weeks, though you chalk it up to “weather,” “economy,” and “geopolitical distemper.” Keep rationalizing, because it’s about to get worse. Much worse. Trust me.

There’s a new emperor in town!

While it would be premature to call my operation an empire, the way people have taken to my Three Eggs Over Easy, Sauerkraut Sunrise, and Tuna Salad on Rye, my first brick-and-mortar shoppe (ha ha ha!) will be up in no time. And I encourage you to come give us a taste.

To sweeten the offer, I’m enclosing a coupon for ONE SCOOP, FLAVOR OF YOUR CHOICE. (Please excuse the Sharpie smell.) I recommend one of our latest concoctions: Fish & Chips, Rosemary Pickle, or Bratwurst Mustard Balsamic—though the truth is, they’re all scrumptious, so you can’t go wrong!

In closing, I leave you with these lines by Solace Weebens, talented poet and Chief Scoop Technician:

Revel now in this waking dream:
there’s only one New Emperor of Ice Cream!

Regards,
Rollie G. “New Emperor” White
New Emperor Ice Creams

– J. T. Townley