Vacation / Travel Supplement
Homemade ice cream tops off memorable visit to Columbus
Wilma Hare, a waitress at the Zaharakos Ice Cream Parlor, makes a terrific ice cream soda and shares a touch of history about this Columbus landmark that opened in 1900. (Photos by John Shaughnessy)
By John Shaughnessy
COLUMBUS—Oh sure, some of you will say I was over-indulgent, gluttonous and even crazy when you learn that I stopped at the Zaharakos Ice Cream Parlor for a late breakfast and ordered the shop’s signature dish, “The Big Z.”
But in my role as a restaurant critic for The Criterion once a year—which my boss thinks is even one time too many—I believe it’s my journalistic duty to sample the culinary creations that are the pride of a particular place.
So for purely research purposes, I ordered “The Big Z,” which comes with five scoops of homemade ice cream of your choice, covered with whipped cream and topped with cherries. Oh yeah, and you get to choose three syrup toppings.
I have to admit that I had to fight back tears of joy when waitress Wilma Hare placed this bowl of beauty, bounty and a bazillion calories in front of me—a dramatic and welcome contrast to the bowls of shredded wheat, crispy rice and crunchy oats floating in 2 percent milk that normally comprise my breakfast menu.
After tasting a sample of each of my five ice cream choices—mint chocolate chip, dreamsicle (my dreams should be this good), vanilla, chocolate and raspberry chocolate chip (Wow!—a professional term used by the best restaurant critics)—I had returned to my 10-year-old version of myself where my mom often chastised me, “Your eyes are bigger than your stomach,” and envisioned eating the entire dish.
But I stopped halfway through the bowl after Hare discreetly dropped by to offer a gentle observation that families of five often share this dish. So I set aside my spoon and took a tour of the ice cream parlor, which is a wonder in itself—for its history and its stunning restoration.
Three brothers from Greece opened Zaharakos as a candy store in 1900, according to the ice cream parlor’s website at www.zaharakos.com.
A visit to the 1904 World’s Fair in St. Louis then led the brothers to turn it into an ice cream parlor, adding onyx soda fountains, a self-playing pipe organ of wood, tin and brass, and a 50-foot-long double back bar of mahogany, stained-glass, marble and mirrors.
For more than a century, the ice cream parlor was a Columbus landmark that even drew people to have some of their wedding and prom pictures taken in front of the bar. But in the early 2000s, the descendants of the Zaharakos brothers decided to close the place.
In 2007, the site was acquired by Tony Moravec, the owner of a pharmaceutical manufacturing and distribution company in Columbus. And for the next two years, he seemed to spare little expense in restoring Zaharakos to its gleaming glory and its homemade ice cream roots.
The history of the place also comes alive in the people who work there.
After my walk through the parlor, I returned to my seat at the counter, where Hare offered to make me an old-fashioned ice cream soda, recommending cherry as a popular flavor.
Because I had been so good in eating just half of “The Big Z,” a cherry ice cream soda—topped again with whipped cream and another cherry—seemed like a worthy reward for my restraint.
“I made this back in the day,” said Hare, a 70-year-old Columbus resident who used to work as a “soda jerk” in the nearby community of Hope in her youth.
“This used to be a teen hangout,” Hare explained. “All they hired in those days were boys. They worked behind the counter. I’ve always said the girls will come where the boys are. And they did.”
As Hare reminisced, the pipe organ played The Entertainer, a Scott Joplin ragtime tune. The carbonation in the ice cream soda, another great treat, also seemed to be having the beginning of a rousing effect on “The Big Z” in my stomach.
So I took another break. And Hare suggested that I talk to a man eating at a table by the front door, an antiques conservator named Chuck Baker who spent 18 months helping to restore the historic ice cream parlor.
“Everything in the museum is prior to 1900, and everything on the ice cream side is 1900 or after,” Baker said. “When we started, I had no idea what a jewel was sitting here. I was fascinated by the woodwork, but it had become run down. Now pride is one thing that comes to mind when I come here. I really enjoy hearing the comments that people make.”
During breaks in our conversation, Baker ate bites of one of the specialty sandwiches of Zaharakos—a creation called the GOM Sandwich that the menu describes as “the classic Zaharakos sloppy joe, spiced just right, and grilled on thick white bread.”
“You should try one,” Baker recommended.
My doctor will be happy to know that I resisted. Maybe next time.
Offering sandwiches and other food items on the menu was an addition that owner Moravec made when he reopened the ice cream parlor in 2009.
“We needed a full-service restaurant to make this work,” Moravec said when he stopped by Zaharakos for lunch that day. “It couldn’t just be an ice cream parlor anymore.”
Still, more than a business, Moravec views the restored shop as a gift to Columbus and a joy for him.
“I thought if it could be revitalized, it would be a point of pride for the community and a destination point for people from all over the state to see,” he said. “I love the feel of nostalgia and the sense of history here.”
Add a taste of delicious ice cream and Zaharakos makes for a fun place to visit during a trip to Columbus.
Besides, you have to appreciate a restaurant whose website includes this advice: “Ice cream for breakfast? Yes.”
(If you have a favorite dessert that can be found at a restaurant or parish festival within the archdiocese, here’s your opportunity to share it with other readers of The Criterion. Send your dessert recommendations—and your reasons—to John Shaughnessy by e-mail at jshaughnessy@archindy.org or by mail to The Criterion, P.O. Box 1410, Indianapolis, IN 46206.) †
