South Gay Street has three ice cream parlors within hailing distance of each other: Cruze Farm, Kilwin’s and The Phoenix Pharmacy and Fountain. The Eurythmics put it best: “sweet dreams are made of this.” When it comes to naming the best ice cream emporium of the South Gay Street Three, Annie Lenox’s other insight holds true: “You and I may disagree.”
I have my fave, which I’ll name. But let me be clear: which ice cream purveyor you prefer depends on the kind of ice cream lights up your life (with apologies to Debby Boone) and what sort of ambiance you enjoy when satisfying your ice cream Jones.
Cruze Control
Cruze Dairy is the local hero. Their ice cream owes its existence to the company’s Knoxville farm, occupied by a pasture-raised herd of 60 Guernsey cows. Twice a week, their dairy sends udderly fresh milk to their South Gay Street store. Six seriously sanitized machines turn the moo juice into 12 different flavors of ice cream. The perennial favorites: sweet cream (a.k.a., vanilla), chocolate, and strawberry, enhanced by sprinkles and other toppings. Cruze control incudes seasonal variants (e.g., pumpkin) and exotic flavors fashioned from fresh local ingredients (e.g., Honey Lavender and Macha Tea).
“Our milk isn’t homogenized,” Cruze Farms owner Colleen Bahtti reveals while reassuring customers that high-heat pasteurization assures food safety. “Homogenization breaks up the butterfat. Fresh, non-homogenized milk ensures superior taste and creamy texture.” No argument there. Cruze Farms’ ice cream is as smooth as a baby’s backside. The flavors are perfectly consistent, from the first lick to the cone crunching last (assuming you don’t dish).
The key difference between Cruze and its cross-street rivals: they serve-up soft-serve. While it’s not bound to bother your average ice cream aficionado, soft serve is the lower priced, lower fat, fewer calorie option. More to the point, it’s delivered at a lower temperature than traditional ice cream, enhancing “flavor perception.” And it’s fast. No laborious hand-dipping need apply. Which is just as well, considering the crowds of caterwauling kids queuing for soft serve service.
Female servers dressed in custom “farm girl attire” deliver delectable delights in no time, watching patrons head to the back to savor their soft serve sensation. The back room’s a clean, well-lit place with high ceilings and diner-style seating. While there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s a city block and a world away from an entirely different ice cream nirvana.
The Phoenix Arises
South Gay Street is what Disneyland’s faux Main Street pretends to be. Our downtown thoroughfare is a perambulator’s paradise; an unbroken line of vibrant businesses operating out of early 20th century edifices constructed in aftermath of the “Million Dollar Fire” of 1897. If you want to step back in time, the Phoenix Pharmacy and Fountain is your jam, made that much sweeter by the ice cream parlor within.
Phoenix’s roosts in what was once Knoxville’s tallest structure, built in 1899 for Cullen & Newman Queensware Wholesalers. Home of the once-proud Fowler’s Furniture Store for over 50 years. In 2016, Ron and Nolan Sherrill renovated the interior, combining dark wood cabinetry, honey-colored floors, high ceilings, period lighting and a proper soda fountain – not to mention a display of medical “remedies” predating the FDA.
The Phoenix Pharmacy and Fountain remains a family affair, run by the seven-member Selby family. The vibe is dignified. Elegant. Laid-back. Relaxing. The Selby brood dishes-up Blue Bell’s premium “hard” ice cream, imported from Brenham, Texas or Sylacauga, Alabama. Non-cone heads enjoy their frozen dairy delights in glass dishes, wielding actual metal spoons.
The eight flavors on tap – including seasonal variants – are to not diet for. Ye olde atmosphere stimulates an automatic upsell. “People want to stay a while,” Caleb Selby opines. Hence the popularity of Phoenix’s specialty sundaes, such as the “Over The Moon” Moon Pie sundae, classic Banana Split or Brownie sundae and this fall’s fave, the Apple Pie milkshake. But if a more comprehensive roster of super premium flavors is your ice cream dream, fulfillment lies a few doors down.
Kilwin’s Kills It
Thanks to the plethora of fast-food franchises selling cheap calories, the discerning diner has come to associate chain eateries with mediocrity. Kilwin’s is the exception that proves the rule. With over 150 stores nationwide, the brand remains dedicated to providing the highest quality ice cream. For example, Kilwin’s transports their frozen concoctions in their own temperature-controlled trucks. For good reason. Even slight temperature variations cause ice cream to melt and refreeze, forming larger ice crystals, leading to a grainy texture.
None of Kilwin’s 32 flavors – with six more waiting their turn in the back room – answer to that description. All of them – from classic vanilla dowsed in homemade hot fudge to Kilwin’s Tracks (vanilla with chocolate-covered peanut butter truffles) – are made in Petoskey, Michigan using fresh milk sourced from local, family-owned farms, sealed in custom-made tubs. Kosher-certified, no less.
Kilwin’s has a few wall stools, four tables facing South Gay Street and a little-known patio out back (down a long corridor). But most of their customers take their hand scooped cones and dishes for a walk. And why not? There are few pleasures to rival people-watching while scarfing Kilwin’s rich, creamy, carefully blended exotic ice cream, strolling down historic downtown Knoxville.
While I’m happy as Larry savoring soft-serve serenity in a backroom booth or diving into a custom crafted sundae in a nostalgic retreat, Kilwin’s mastery of traditional ice cream makes them my first choice. Not that my preference matters. To paraphrase Annie Lennox, South Gay Street’s ice cream lovers are “doing it by themselves.”