Packed with Charm and Whimsy

Despite its name, Crossroads Custard & Coldbrew, located at 45 Slabtown Road in Cashiers, offers far more than sweet frozen goodness and coffee. There’s magic here, and the secret of Time Travel.

Are there taste sensations stored away in your brain pan that will not be diminished by the steady accretion of decades and the indifference you’ve paid to your mind and body?

The sort of emotional-sensory memory that can arrive, unbidden, as you’re drifting off to sleep, that’s so acute that it can make you gasp and issue a half-smile that’s as wistful as anything captured by da Vinci?

For me, there are a few dishes that can do that – my Mom’s Strawberry Pie, Basque Marmitako (served in a never-emptying bowl in my son’s adopted town of Pamplona), Mrs. Wilma Gordon’s stillwarm-from-the-oven cornbread in a long-ago supper at Highlands United Methodist Church, and, somehow, a Banana Milkshake. By way of explanation for the latter’s inclusion, let me supply a bit of context:

In the wake of my truly astonishing (even to me) grasp of the arcane mysteries of long division and the subsequent attaining of 100 on a big, big test, my grandmother, the estimable Mildred Hannum, responded by taking me (and only me, my sisters weren’t invited) to

Evan’s Ice Cream Parlor in Council Bluffs, Iowa, and treated me to a Milk Shake.

Mrs. Evans, the owner and chief scooper, turned this into a transcendent event when she told me that she could whip up a shake using any of the parlor’s 16 flavors – Moses parted the Red Sea, Lincoln freed the slaves, and a throng of angels acclaimed “Hallelujah!” – it seemed impossible!

This offer was made in Iowa in the midst of a gray, ice-locked February, so I naturally chose Banana. Banana seemed tropical and sweet. And sure enough, that simple Banana Milk Shake was a treasure, a grace note from the tropics and I could imagine that Jane would have served it at Tarzan’s Birthday Party.

Blend it in with the pride I felt at mastering the upper reaches of mathematics and the sweet words of my grandmother, and you have an experience to be archived and opened any time the world seems unfair or disappointing or indifferent.

Which brings us to Crossroads Custard & Coldbrew, found at 45 Slab Town Road in Cashiers.

It’s a cozy bistro that is packed with charm and whimsy and a generous dollop of playfulness, a spirit that extends to its vast, nearlyoverwhelming menu. Twenty-four flavors of sweet, sweet custard –sorry Mrs. Evans!)

Think I’m joking about that playfulness? Consider their Moon Pie Sundae – a deputy’s dream built upon a classic Lookout Mountain Moon Pie, warmed up and topped with vanilla custard, hot fudge sauce, strawberry sauce, whipped cream, and a crucial cherry on top. How’s that for a memory maker?

Still, through all the choices, there was no way I could resist the prospect of a frosty Banana Shake, crafted with care and delivered with a smile.

And the decades dropped away, and I was young and blissful and once more certain that the world held promise and such potential. Was it as good as what I slurped down on that frigid afternoon?

Nope – way, way better. The egg content of the custard gave the creation a richness of flavor and velvety consistency that was far superior to a simple ice cream-based shake.

Tricia ordered a Squatch, a thick custard frappe sweetened with agave and topped with strawberry, banana, almond butter, and granola – and into which was blended orange, mango, pineapple and guava!

She dove in despite the risk of brain freeze and made it all go away.

And here’s the thing – as we were enjoying our creations and reveling in memories and sensations that reverberated through the years, Crossroads Custard was busy, really busy, with families with kids and families with grandkids and young couples and work buddies. And everyone was happy – some looking to decant memories of golden moments, others intent on memorializing this particular afternoon, when everything was just so, and the custard and the milk shakes and the smiles were as good as life could get.

by Luke Osteen