I’ve got Gifford’s Ice Cream boxes scattered around my apartment, and in a storage shed. Sunday’s article got me hauling stuff out from the bottom of my closet and digging around. A friend suggested that I photograph a few things and post them. So that’s what I’ll do.
This is just the very tip of the iceberg… The memorbilia goes on and on. The same friend suggested that I sell everything. Which I should do, shouldn’t I? Sell everything, pay off the publishing debt, go run a bar with my friend in Paris and write troubled poetry.
Now — a very brief photo journey!
The first thing that caught my eye was a sample of an ad for the Country Style Caramels. Which were insanely delicious.
Three different menu styles. The big one with the trademark waitress on it is the old school menu from the 60’s and 70’s. Then we get an intermediate menu from 78-82 when dad took over, and the final end days menu from the oh-so-futuristic 1982-1985.
The interior of the intermediate menu is a special treat. Not only is there a glaring typo, but there’s this weird, jingoistic propaganda and alternative family history that my dad wrote. John Gifford worked on a New Jersey dairy farm, not in Ohio.
A fun discovery, buried under rotting ice cream containers, was John Gifford’s pilot’s license from WWI.
And here he is in the air!
Also under the pile of containers, I stumbled across the plates for the original menu. Here are a few of them. The one on the left is from the old, old menu…
And, now, I’ll pander to the audience — a collection of the original recipes! These are taken from the Silver Spring plant, my dad’s safe, notes my maternal grandfather copied right before Gifford’s was shut down (and used to create the fake recipes), and a bound copy of the manager’s handbook (which has the recipes tucked into it).