The Story Behind the Stretchy Ice Cream You’re About to See Everywhere (2024)

The history of ice cream is long and sweet. Throughout ancient history, civilizations from Egypt to Pompei, from Tang Dynasty China to the Incan Empire all managed to realize that ice (most often transported from nearby volcano and mountain tops) served with a side of fructose or glucose (the Pharaohs favored cooked fruit, while the Romans fancied honey) made the people scream.

Ask someone today to list out the varieties of frosty delights and they will likely identify Italian gelato (Italophiles might proffer granitas) and American ice creams, sorbets, and soft serves. They won’t, unless they’ve spent time in the Middle East, include booza. But the foursome behind Williamsburg’s new ice creamery The Republic of Booza, hope to change this.

So what is booza? Contrary to what many have erroneously deduced, it is not boozy ice cream, but a stretchy, taffy-like frozen treat beloved and consumed by those countries in the Levant. As a girl growing up in Beirut, the key to my happiness lied in a generous serving of Ashta booza (more on this later). I have childhood memories of passing booza vendors on the corniche, tugging on my parents until they acquiesced and I was happily licking my sweet treat in a brain-freezed bliss. So you can imagine my profound delight upon discovering it in Brooklyn.

Whereas gelato incorporates eggs, cream, milk, and sugar, churned slowly to achieve an airless density, traditional booza requires no cream or eggs; instead, it uses milk, mastic sap (from the tree), and sahlab (a starch: ground and powdered Orchid tuber) which gives the ice cream the flexibility of a gymnast. The concoction is not churned, but pounded with large wooden mallets, pulled, stretched, and twirled around. The sticky and cream-free consistency allows the ice cream to thrive in higher temperatures so it won't drip down your hand as quickly as you'd expect. It’s served at 12 to 15 degrees (while regular ice cream is best between -4 to 5 degrees) and its density carries flavor that much more. The “original” flavor is Ashta (for the Lebanese), or Qashta (for the Syrians), but that’s just a tomato/tamato difference. The mastic imbues a nice piney flavor that pairs well with elements of rose and orange blossom waters. And of course, no Middle Eastern delicacy is complete without a generous sprinkling of pistachios. Though a cone is by far the most romantic way to eat ice cream, booza is ideal without. Dip your spoon into the confection to pull out a long string of ice cream you can twirl and loop in a spaghetti-like fashion. The dessert seems to dissolve on your tongue as quickly as cotton candy might, and the flavor lingers until you’re ready for your next bite.

You’ll find Ashta at the Republic of Booza, a compact, North 4th Street spot where you can enjoy your treats on blonde wood, bleacher-style seating. The shop was founded by four sweet-toothed guys with unique associations to the Middle East. Among them, an American-born Middle Eastern philosophy academic and a second-generation Lebanese who grew up in Australia, where he developed a line of packaged booza. Here, the group hopes to introduce New York City to traditional booza, along with the more experimental offerings that would raise the eyebrows of classic booza-makers. Some of these flavors aren’t served to customers unless they’ve first had a sampling. Not because the flavors are unenjoyable, but because patrons might be unfamiliar with many of their ingredients (ex. a black walnut-based ice cream with a taste profile not unlike gorgonzola).

Other standouts include a creamy, nutty Horchata de Chuca (soaked, ground, and sweetened tiger nuts), a Sichuan White Chocolate that generates a lingering tingling sensation without the spiciness you’d expect, and a virgin Bloody Mary Sorbet, which tastes exactly as you’d expect it to and makes for a nice Sunday morning treat. There are also less avant garde options like vanilla, chocolate, salted caramel, and pistachio. And with miso, saffron, and matcha also on the menu, you’ll find yourself transported to places beyond the Middle East with every sampling. As for me, I was back in Beirut, eating ice cream as I watched the sun dip into the Mediterranean.