Pink Dipper

It’s great to be happy when you visit Pink Dipper; but for some of us, it’s a particularly good destination if we’re sad. Is there a more effective anti-depressant than an expertly-made banana split, complete with three flavors of ice cream, three different complementary toppings, whipped cream, nuts, and maraschino cherries? Even if you get a basic cone (made in house) filled with vanilla or chocolate or more exotic flavors such as Superman, Salty Caramel, or Birthday Cake, simply being inside Pink Dipper is an upbeat experience. I am smitten by its lipstick-red counter stools and wrought-iron chairs with their heart-shaped backs at pink tables, as well as by a staff who dips and mixes ice cream and all its condiments with an attitude of enthusiasm and savoir-faire.

Hardly any concession is made to appetites other than sweet tooths. Savory meals do not exist, although basic hot dogs have been added to the menu. Pink Dipper is all about ice cream: in cups and cones, in milk shakes and sodas, and as sundaes and splits. It’s not artisan ice cream, but it is good stuff, made in Greenville and served in generous scoops. Toppings are nothing fancy, either — except maybe the honey-colored wet walnuts that are a sumptuous alternative to chopped peanuts. But hot fudge, marshmallow sauce, pineapple chunks, and cherries are paradigmatic ice-cream-parlor toppings, just right on these ingenuous offerings.

Of special note for those in search of regional curiosities: a Moon Pie sundae. The echt-southern Moon Pie, which is a chocolate-dipped pair of large Graham cracker cookies sandwiching a marshmallow middle, is warmed just enough so it’s easy to sever with a plastic spoon, then heaped with ice cream, hot fudge, and your choice of chopped peanuts or wet walnuts. For me, the walnuts tend towards overkill, looming over everything enough to overshadow the refined harmonics of a warm Moon Pie topped with ice cream and fudge. I ate it all, of course, but next time I’ll have it with chopped peanuts.