"That decision to fix the sign like that turned out to be a good one," Shirvani says, laughing about it now. But the unique texture of his desserts-weirdly, almost like the texture of powdery, frozen white chocolate chips-and his frugal sign ingenuity eventually proved to be a smashing success.
Shirvani tells me that the process of getting Angelenos used to ice cream with rice noodles was not an easy task. He then decided to risk it all and buy an existing ice cream shop by the name of Mugsy Malone, of which he adjusted the "Mugsy" part to say "Mashti," since he was dirt-broke at the time and couldn't afford a new sign. "I wanted to be in the happy business," Shirvani says. He soon realized that he wanted to focus his life on ice cream instead because of its magical ability to make you instantly feel good upon eating it. His first job was as a chef in one of the first Iranian restaurants in LA, which is no longer around. Not to mention the "Alphonso Mango," or "Organic Green Tea" flavors, which aren't so traditional but still super-addictive nonetheless.Īs a student, Shirvani emigrated to the US when the revolution started in Iran in 1979. The more complex and aromatic "Herbal Snow," made from 15 different herbs and spices, is enough to make you a lifelong fan, if you are into that sort of perfume-that-borders-on-bitters flavor. Shirvani's "Turkish Coffee" tastes like standing in front of a coffee grinder, taking in the pleasurable whiffs of freshly roasted beans getting pulverized. Whether you are part of a group of teenage girls coming in for chocolate ice cream or an older Persian couple eating cucumber sorbet, the answer to that is always a resounding "yes." At 65 years young, Malone's founder and chef, Mashti Shirvani, still greets every single one of his customers and asks them personally if they enjoyed his ice cream.
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Once you know the taste of a Persian ice cream (bastany nuny) eaten in this way, you can never again see a good looking scoop of ice cream between two wafers without wanting to take a lick of it.The shop-sandwiched between Hollywood and Sunset Boulevards, located in the same strip mall as the offices of the weekly free adult newspaper, LA Xpress-is about to turn 37 years old, and it is perhaps one of the most underrated food institutions in the city of Los Angeles.
Each lick would bring to our mouths a cold, creamy, perfumed delight with chunks of solid, frozen cream. The idea was to make the ice cream last the longest amount of time possible without it melting or dripping. We would begin by turning it around clockwise, gently and systematically, as we sucked and licked while squeezing the wafers with just the right amount of pressure. Eating it was an art we perfected with practice. We held in both hands a scoop of ice cream between two round crispy wafers. After a siesta on a long hot summer afternoon, my three sisters and I were happiest when we could soak all our senses in an ice cream sandwich costing ten cents. In my childhood in Iran, our favorite summer treat was a creamy, elastic, sweet ice cream flavored with rose water and saffron, and garnished with pistachios.