Peanut Butter Overload on the left and a waffle cone with S'mores and Cookie Dough...courtesy of Miss Stephanie's Blackberry

From what I can remember, the building just south of Colonial Bakery on Route 35 North has always offered frozen creamy confections. It’s changed hands and monikers several times – from Mrs. Walker’s in the early 1990s (I have fond memories of digging into a cup of black raspberry ice cream while watching the launch of Nickelodeon’s SNICK during one of Mrs. W’s early summers) to a brief stint as Strawberries.

Now, Summer Sweets occupies the charming roadside bungalow-turned-scoop shop and has since 2006. On their site, the owner details her discovery of the building and admits that her dad advised knocking it down. We’re willing to forgive this statement (as well as the site’s casual use of grammar and the spelling of Lavallette) because Summer Sweets’ brightly painted walls, cartoonish ice cream cut-outs (as detailed by the authors of Ice Cream People) and cheery interior are just so doggone cute.

A recent week-night trip just before closing time left us quite satisfied with heaping cones. One of Summer Sweets’ signature flavors is Peanut Butter Overload, a delicious amalgamation of vanilla ice cream, peanut butter chips, chocolate chips and fudge. Speaking as a peanut butter afficionado, it’s just the right balance of peanut butter and chocolate (probably the holiest flavor combination the world has to offer). My brother deemed his cookie dough “delicious” and “amazing” (he’s a science major; his vocabulary’s not terribly extensive) and raved about the size of the dough chunks. His ladyfriend, our B.B. photog Steph, tried a non-fat, sugar-free concoction and said it was great. I’m still not buying it. I had my PBO (as the kids call it these days, I hear) in a fudge-dipped, sprinkle-coated sugar cone – something you don’t usually see, as the fudge/sprinkle hullabaloo is usually reserved for massive waffle cones. AJ (baby bro) had his ice cream in one such hulking cone and had to call for cup and spoon back up. He seemed to enjoy himself. Our three desserts set my generous brother back about $13. (I frequently buy him dinner, but now that his badge checking/substitute lifeguard paychecks are piling up he wanted to treat. Nice kid like that.)

In addition to the classics, Summer Sweets offers off-beat ice cream flavors like Oatmeal Cookie, Chocolate Thunder (chocolate ice cream with fudge and chocolate pieces), Cotton Candy, Shannon’s Special (chocolate ice cream, marshmallow, caramel and chocolate chips) and the custom, locally-inspired Ocean Beach (orange, pineapple and coconut ice cream with maraschino cherries).

But, don’t get bogged down in the ice cream. Truly living up to its name, Summer Sweets packs a case full of various confections – pies, cookies, brownies, cannoli, fudges of varying flavors (Butterfinger, M&M, turtle, et al) and candied apples covered in chocolate, caramel and the regular red sugar shellac.

You won’t find ice cream for breakfast here (or even lunch) but Summer Sweets stays open pretty late. Hours: Monday-Thursday: 3-10:30 p.m.; Friday-Saturday: 3 p.m. to 12 a.m.; Sunday: 3-11 p.m.

Summer Sweets is located at 3071 Route 35 North, just north of Ocean Beach Unit I. For more information, call (732) 830-3444 or visit www.summersweetsnj.com.

Normandy Beach's Kaboodles Ice Cream Parlor serves up scoops, sprinkles and silly names to boot.

The concept of going out for ice cream is absolutely married to summers at the Shore. Sure, there’s FrozFruit bars, Screwballs and novelty character-shaped frozen dessert novelties to be had on the beach during the day, but when the sun goes down, you hanker for a cone. Before any of us could drive, my friends and I found our main source of entertainment in walking up and down Route 35 North in search of ice cream. There was Mrs. Walker’s (now Summer Sweets), Milky Way (now a real estate office) and Salty’s (still the same!) if we felt like trekking. Today the options are just as plentiful, if not more so.

Obviously, this is going to become a series. And it will likely get personal. Ice cream parlors – like pizza – can inspire fierce loyalty. And, like pizza, no ice cream is really ever bad. Even when it’s pretty bad, it’s still pretty good.

Kaboodles in Normandy Beach fed the ice-cream-frenzied masses for years at the corner of 6th Ave. and 35 North for years. A quick survey of flavor titles during a recent trip revealed that Kaboodles carries quite the eclectic collection of flavors: Tastykake Kandy Kake (you know – the cake/peanut butter/chocolate explosion of deliciousness from your youthbut in ice cream form), Deathby Chocolate, Cake Batter with sprinkles throughout, and sugar-free low-fat Moosetracks for those whose willpower doesn’t allow for ice cream to be subtracted from their diet.

I had been jonseing for weeks for strawberry with rainbow sprinkles in a sugar cone. It definitely didn’t disappoint but also didn’t blow your mind. I should probably have tried the Kandy Kake ice cream but the stomach wants what it wants.

Strawberry with rainbow sprinkles and Cookies & Cream. We trust you can tell the difference.

The menu also includes frozen yogurt and several featured sundaes and treats like the Berry White Shake and the Patriots sundae, a combination of strawberries, blueberries and vanilla ice cream.

A small, two-scoop cone will set you back $2.85. In all, our order of three cones – one with sprinkles (not jimmies)- totaled $8.80. Kaboodles stays open later than many ice cream joints, 11:30 p.m. on Fridays and Saturdays and 11 p.m. Sunday through Thursday. There’s outside seating in what can be considered downtown Normandy Beach.

Kaboodles Ice Cream Parlor is located at  560 State Highway 35 No, at the corner of Route 35 North and Sixth Avenue just over the border into the Brick Township part of Normandy Beach. For information, call (732) 830-0222.

Marcua's, a little... well, ok, a large slice of heaven.

In the June issue of GQ, famed culinary critic Alan Richman lists the best 25 pizza pies from across the country. Nary a mention of our fair state. Not surprising given the follow-up post on his blog, while listing New York City first in the top ten pizza cities in the U.S. (and by extension, the world), Richman states “Pizza, undeniably, is an urban animal…. The big city is where pizza thrives.”

So, the Jerz not only overshadowed by NYC, but possibly not even given a second thought! Well, given just how seriously we take our pie, it seems harsh not to have even been considered. I can’t speak for the rest of the world, but if you’ve grown up in close proximity to New York City, you would argue that the suburbs are where pizza thrives. All of us have our fave hometown pizza joints, and our cultural identities are indeed tied to them.

Get into talking with anyone from New Jersey about their hometown and before long you’ll be on the topic of the pizza joints in close proximity. There’s the pie, and there’s the why… I grew up in South Orange and it was (and forever will be) The Star Tavern in Orange for the thin crust, and Resevior Pizzeria for the gravy and cheese bomb. And we’re not talking about any artisinal pizza movement, wood fired stoves or fancy toppings. We just know what’s good. A Google search on best pies in NJ yeilded this Chowhound thread that has been consistently updated since 2002!

Those of us who have dual identities tied to both our hometowns and the shore are just lucky to have two sets of pizza joints to associate ourselves with.

We should throw Richman a bone for not paying us no nevermind. “I tried 137 pies in the New York City and I’m not certain that was enough,” he writes. Tough for New Jersey to not get muscled out of the picture here, we certainly have our share of famed pizza joints, as well as a fair amount serving up nothing much better than cardboard, Ragu and Polly-o. If we were to get Richman down the the shore, what would we recommend?

For the best boardwalk pie, I’ll throw my hat in the ring for Maruca’s Tomato Pies in Seaside Heights. There’s the famous cheese and gravy swirl, for one. Very aesthetically pleasing. And the somewhat bitter edge, believed by some to be due to the addition of Monterey Jack cheese with the mozzarella, is a bit out of the ordinary. This one took me a little while to warm up to, to be honest. I became a Marruca’s fan by marriage.

For toppings, you gotta go with the crumbled sausage is the topping of choice (sliced sausage for me is a non-starter – any self respecting pizza slinger crumbles). And these are boardwalk size slices that hold up amazingly firm, but the crust is light and airy just like it outta be. Insider’s tip, ask for it well done!

That’s my pick, what’s yours?