An ice cream soda or float (United States, Canada, New Zealand, and East Asia), coke float or Snowball (United Kingdom, New Zealand), or spider (New Zealand and Australia), is a beverage that consists of ice cream in either a soft drink or in a mixture of flavored syrup and carbonated water.
Read more about Ice Cream Soda: Origins, Regional Names, Variations
Famous quotes containing the words cream soda, ice cream, ice, cream and/or soda:
“How wonderful to meet such a natural little girl. She knows what she wants and she asks for it. Not like these over-civilized little pets that have to go through analysis before they can choose an ice cream soda.”
—John Lee Mahin (1902–1984)
“...there was the annual Fourth of July picketing at Independence Hall in Philadelphia. ...I thought it was ridiculous to have to go there in a skirt. But I did it anyway because it was something that might possibly have an effect. I remember walking around in my little white blouse and skirt and tourists standing there eating their ice cream cones and watching us like the zoo had opened.”
—Martha Shelley, U.S. author and social activist. As quoted in Making History, part 3, by Eric Marcus (1992)
“In vain produced, all rays return;
Evil will bless, and ice will burn.”
—Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882)
“It’s just like when you’ve got some coffee that’s too black, which means it’s too strong. What do you do? You integrate it with cream, you make it weak. But if you pour too much cream in it, you won’t even know you ever had coffee. It used to be hot, it becomes cool. It used to be strong, it becomes weak. It used to wake you up, now it puts you to sleep.”
—Malcolm X (1925–1965)
“The man who invented Eskimo Pie made a million dollars, so one is told, but E.E. Cummings, whose verse has been appearing off and on for three years now, and whose experiments should not be more appalling to those interested in poetry than the experiment of surrounding ice-cream with a layer of chocolate was to those interested in soda fountains, has hardly made a dent in the doughy minds of our so-called poetry lovers.”
—John Dos Passos (1896–1970)