There’s something oddly comforting about the return of boozy ice cream cocktails, isn’t there? It’s like the universe is gently nudging us to slow down, to savor the absurdity of a drink that’s equal parts dessert and drink. In Des Moines, this nostalgia-fueled revival isn’t just about flavor—it’s a rebellion against the sterile, efficiency-driven culture we’ve grown accustomed to. Why else would a city known for its pragmatic Midwestern roots be embracing the velvet chaos of a Grasshopper or the saccharine audacity of a Pink Squirrel? It’s as if the metro is saying, 'Hey, remember when life was a little less serious?'
Let’s start with Johnny’s Italian Steakhouse, which has turned its menu into a love letter to the 1950s. The Golden Cadillac, with its Galliano and crème de cacao, isn’t just a drink—it’s a time machine. But what makes this particularly fascinating is how it’s being marketed as an 'experience.' In an era where dining feels increasingly transactional, Johnny’s is selling the idea that a cocktail can be a moment. This isn’t just about nostalgia; it’s about creating a narrative. When you sip that creamy, minty Grasshopper, you’re not just consuming alcohol—you’re participating in a story about glamour, excess, and the idea that life should be lived with a little more flair.
Then there’s Jesse’s Embers, the original supper club that’s less about polish and more about authenticity. Their Brandy Alexanders and Pink Squirrels aren’t curated for Instagram; they’re the kind of drinks your grandfather might have ordered after a steak dinner. What many people don’t realize is that this isn’t just about the food—it’s about the ritual. Jesse’s thrives on the intimacy of a wood-paneled bar, the clink of glasses, and the unspoken agreement that dinner should end with something sweet and slightly dangerous. It’s a reminder that some traditions aren’t just about the past; they’re about creating a sense of belonging in the present.
But let’s not forget Zombie Burger + Bird, where the rules are thrown out the window. Their spiked milkshakes—like the Human Centipede with its Dr. McGillicuddy’s liqueur—are less about elegance and more about chaos. This raises a deeper question: Is this trend about sophistication or just the thrill of the unexpected? In a world where everything is optimized for efficiency, the sheer absurdity of a Frooty Pebbles-infused cocktail is almost rebellious. It’s the kind of thing that makes you wonder if we’re collectively yearning for a return to the days when fun had no limits—when a drink could be both a dessert and a dare.
What I find especially interesting is how this trend intersects with broader cultural shifts. We’re seeing a resurgence of retro aesthetics in everything from fashion to music, but the return of boozy ice cream cocktails feels more personal. It’s not just about looking back; it’s about feeling something. These drinks tap into a universal need for comfort, for the familiar, for the idea that life can still be indulgent. And yet, there’s a paradox here: In a time when health consciousness dominates conversations, why are we craving something so decadent? Perhaps it’s because we’re not just hungry for calories—we’re hungry for meaning. These cocktails offer a fleeting escape, a way to say, 'Yes, I’m alive, and I’m going to enjoy it.'
If you take a step back and think about it, the revival of these drinks is a microcosm of our current cultural moment. We’re oscillating between the desire for connection and the fear of being overwhelmed by it. The frozen supper club cocktail, with its creamy textures and bold flavors, becomes a metaphor for this tension. It’s indulgent, yes, but it’s also communal—a shared experience that brings people together over something that’s both sweet and slightly reckless. And isn’t that what we’re all looking for? A way to feel alive without worrying about the consequences?
So, the next time you find yourself in Des Moines, consider raising a glass of something that defies logic. Whether it’s the Golden Cadillac or the Human Centipede, these drinks are more than just a trend. They’re a statement. A reminder that sometimes, the best way to move forward is to look back—and to do it with a spoonful of crème de cacao.
