Brain Freeze
RED WAGON AFTER DARK DARES TO MIX ICE CREAM WITH ALCOHOL
by Amy Schneider
F
rom food cart to store front, Red Wagon
Creamery has come a long way. The ice cream
shop is well known for wonderfully eclectic,
handmade ice cream fl avors like carrot jala-
peño, peach rosemary and Saturday Morning,
meant to taste like the milk left over after a bowl of Fruit
Loops. But stick around after 10 pm on Friday and Satur-
day, and the creamery transforms into Red Wagon After
Dark, where bartender Amanda Hoffman throws booze
into the mix of creamy deliciousness.
“People come in thinking about dessert but still wanting
another drink, so this is the perfect solution,” says Hoffman,
who has worked as a bartender for about 10 years and
joined up with Red Wagon Creamery last fall. “It’s really a
great opportunity to be creative.”
Amid the tumultuous hub of activity pervading downtown
Eugene on a Friday night, the creamery is a pleasant place
to chill out and enjoy drinks, ice cream or both at the same
time. Blue sky-colored walls, cheerful lights strung along
the ceiling, pews from a recently demolished church and
handmade wooden tables lend a cheery atmosphere. A focus
on sustainability adds a nice touch — instead of throwing
away mountains of plastic tasting spoons every day, Red
Wagon has a permanent stock that gets washed and reused.
“I like this location, and with us being a more family-
oriented business, it’s helping draw people back to
downtown,” says co-owner Stuart Phillips, who started
the business with his wife Emily Phillips, a chef and the
mastermind behind Red Wagon’s unique fl avors. “We
have people coming in who say they haven’t been in the
downtown area for over 20 years.”
Emily Phillips came up with the idea of combining
liquor and ice cream, and she and Stuart Phillips advertised
for a bartender on Craigslist. “The ad said we were looking
for ‘a creative bartender with fl air, but not TGI Friday’s
kind of fl air,’” Stuart Phillips says. Hoffman answered their
ad and was soon brainstorming ice cream cocktail ideas.
Red Wagon has been making Ninkasi and Falling Sky
beer fl oats for years, but Hoffman expanded the menu with
spiked milkshakes and specialty items like the Frozen Goat
Latte, which combines Wandering Goat coffee, Kahlua,
vodka and two fl avors of ice cream. “It’s the ultimate
trifecta,” she says.
STUART PHILLIPS
LEADS A ROUND OF
CARDS AGAINST
HUMANITY
PHOTO BY TRASK BEDORTHA
Another favorite is what Hoffman calls a “chocolate
lover’s delight,” the Chocolate Wagon. Hoffman drizzles
chocolate fudge down the sides of a glass and then adds
a blended concoction of Red Wagon’s signature Heart of
Chocolate ice cream, hazelnut-fl avored Frangelico and
Baileys for an additional touch of creaminess. Chocolate
whipped cream tops it off, and one sip leaves you drowning
in chocolate-y bliss.
“I had never been part of starting a bar before,” Hoffman
says, “and it was really cool coming into it with a blank
slate.”
Hoffman’s menu also includes non-ice-cream cocktails
of her own design. The Downtown Eugene — a Manhattan
for Oregonians — mixes sweet vermouth with bourbon
and replaces cherry juice with grenadine. “We also serve
Jell-O shots, which I’m relatively famous for,” she says.
As spring arrives and the seasonal menu changes, Hoffman
says she’s looking forward to adding new berries and herbs
to her repertoire. A marionberry lemon drop is in the works.
As if ice cream cocktails aren’t entertainment enough,
Red Wagon After Dark features Cards Against Humanity
Fridays and Bingo Saturdays, with prizes ranging from
Sizzle Pie gift cards to Angry Birds fruit snacks. As
Hoffman says, “We’re different from every other place
you’ll fi nd downtown.” ■
Red Wagon After Dark in Red Wagon Creamery, 55 W. Broadway, is open Friday
and Saturday nights from 10 pm to midnight. Regular store hours are 2 to 10
pm Sunday through Thursday and 2 pm to midnight on Fridays and Saturdays.
Get Thee to AA
UNDERAGE DRINKING WITH UNUSUAL CONSEQUENCES
M
y dad approached parenting in his own
way. When my older brother Taylor
started wearing obscene clothing
during his rebellious youth, my dad
responded by wearing a brown bag
over his head like a chef’s hat the next time the two of
them went grocery shopping. He’s a maverick in just about
every way except his fashion, so it makes sense he made
me attend an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting after I was
caught drinking during high school.
In early 2007, my friends and I got together at a house
without parents and went to town on a bottle of cheap
whiskey called Black Velvet. Being 14 years old, as well as
a fool, I couldn’t handle the liquor and started throwing up
on the driveway. They didn’t know what to do with me so
they called my dad and told him I had food poisoning from
www.eugeneweekly.com
by Silas Valentino
a burrito — a classic cover-up. My dad picked me up and
soon noticed the scent of alcohol. When I awoke from my
slumber, he had a repentance list ready, and at the bottom
was “attend an AA meeting.”
I found a meeting at my local community center, and
with a belly full of butterfl ies, I entered the room. I was
hoping it would be a low-key experience, but that was
not the case. It turned out to be a chip awards ceremony
(a celebration in recognition of sobriety), and the room
was packed. I tried to disappear in the back with the
Oreos and coffee, but a generous woman spotted me
and offered a seat that was at the very front of the room.
Terrifi ed and noticeably awkward, I listened to the stories,
accomplishments and regrets from local townspeople.
An older gentleman gave his testimony and then
earned his 30-year chip, but even after such a feat I got
the sense that he battled with his alcoholism day by day.
I then recognized a friend’s parent and together we shared
a tender moment of confi dentiality. Strangers exchanged
their problems and successes and after an hour we all held
hands and chanted, “Keep coming back; it works if you
work it.”
The whole experience was an echo of that scene in Star
Wars: The Empire Strikes Back when Luke has the vision
of Vader in the swamp caves of Dagobah. There’s a thin
line between control and powerlessness. My dad didn’t
send me to an AA meeting because he thought I had a
problem — he did it so I could see what might happen if I
let alcohol control my life. Eight years later, I’m at the end
of my college career, a time where alcoholism has lobbied
its way into the norm, and due to my childhood AA visit
I’m able to appreciate the value of choice. ■
SWIZZLE 2014
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