How to Make a Sno-Cone

An expert describes how to make a sno-cone—safely.


| March/April 2012



Snow Cone Sign

The best ice is the cold ice, but customers rarely get that.

JAMES DAVIS FAMILY/MN STATE FAIR/DEBRA FISHER GOLDSTEIN

First, don’t kill anyone. Don’t make them choke on small bits of plastic, which might happen if you push the ice chunks into the grinder with the plastic scoop—something everyone in my family often does. The ice clogs when you dump it in. Also, the chute is metal—ice can stick like a wet tongue on a swing set. You’re going to have to shove it in a little, but not so hard that the plastic scoop gets mauled. The shaved ice is white and shiny. By happenstance, the plastic is too. It’s hard to know if you’ve ground up the scoop or not. If you think you might have chewed plastic into the shaved ice, while the customer looks in eagerly through the front window of the Snack Shack, just calmly scoop out the snow from the plexi bin and dump it into the yellow bucket below. Say, “I want to start over; I didn’t like that bunch,” and put more ice chunks into the machine. The customer will not know of his proximity to death by choking and may be flattered that you took the time to chop more ice—better ice—for his sno-cone. One truism about tourists: They like to feel important. A delay, when it’s a delay for them and not a delay for someone else is evidence of your wish to deliver them perfection.

Second, the grape flavor tastes watery. Don’t push the grape.

Say, “Cherry, blue-raspberry, grape, or a combo?” The cherry flavor is the best single flavor, and you will say so if you’re asked, but don’t volunteer the information.

Mom says to give one squirt into the ice at the bottom of the cone, then two squirts into the dome on top. Do it slowly so the ice doesn’t dent.

The best ice is the cold ice, but customers rarely get that. We grind up ice for sno-cones one at a time because we don’t get enough orders to shave up a mountain of ice and leave it to melt there all day. Dad would have a fit. Wasteful, wasteful. For one sno-cone, we only chop one sno-cone’s worth. But the best ice comes after five or six sno-cones. The whirling blades get good and cold.

The ice chopped for the seventh or eighth will be so cold and fluffy that it may not even pack into a ball. If that happens, just dig into the mound with your scoop until you’re at the bottom, then add some wet (bad) ice to your ball. People like their ice in a ball. It’s how they imagine it should be. But we know better. We are sno-cone snobs.