My Milkshake...
"...milkshakes? I LOVE milkshakes. This is my second one.
I don't care about my body, who cares?!"
- Manolo Blahnik
It is New Years Eve, a time for reflection. On Milkshakes. Even during my own youth, the milkshake was already a ghost of some Norman Rockwellian Zeitgeist that perhaps didn’t ever really exist, at least not in the idealized way we imagine. Still though, the milkshake is something special. It is part of the history of this country, uniquely American, permanently emblazoned in photographs of American diners and soda fountains from every decade of the 20th century. Forget hormones, lactose intolerance, childhood obesity, and the consequences of taking in an abundance of sugar. The Milkshake, in my humble point of view, reigns supreme as the ultimate, indulgent, sans tobacco or alcohol-related treat.
The milkshake first existed in mid 1800’s American lexicon as a sort of eggnog-esque whisky concoction, but later evolved to be any sort of sweet cream based drink made with flavored syrups of vanilla, chocolate, or strawberry. During the first half of the 20th century they were mainstays at Walgreen's and numerous soda fountains around the country. Then, in 1955 an electric milkshake blender sales rep named Ray happened to encounter a small chain of fast food restaurants based in Southern California called McDonalds. Unquestionably the advent and wide-spread usage of electric blenders in fast food chains propelled the drink’s popularity right up to today.
I don’t recall my earliest milkshake, although I will never forget the BEST one. During my first visit to New York city at age 13 I visited the legendary NYC institution Rumplemayer, which was a restaurant in the ground floor of the old St. Moritz Hotel (now the Ritz Carlton). Already well into the denouement of it’s existence, Rumplemayer was famed for it’s sweet treats and I indulged in probably the best milkshake of my entire life. I’m certain that I am embellishing the experience and by now my nostalgia is more romanticized than actual memory, but still.
Whatever image comes to mind with the word Milkshake, whether it be vintage 1950’s poodle skirt nostalgia, the $5 variety at Jack Rabbit Slims, Daniel Day Lewis in There Will be Blood, or even that song from Kelis, if you don’t like milkshakes, you better check your pulse.