Ice Cream Spoooooons
A story about plastic joy
It’s time to do do some spring cleaning around here — cleaning out projects from my “list of things to publish.”
The Spoooooon 🥣
I made an ice cream spoon. 1000 of them, in fact. Read the full story of my rabbit hole below—and buy a set if you’d like to experience the spoon’s surprising charm yourself.
On a trip to London last year, I had dinner at a Mexican restaurant—the kind that has perfected the “Millennial siren call,” by which I mean just the right combination of catchphrases to make a Millennial’s wallet go bling (“Smoky Sonoran Hummus,” “Tres Leches Tiramisu”). Needless to say, I loved it.
The ice cream dessert came with a spoon—but not just any spoon, as I would soon discover.
Put the spoon in your mouth and an unexpected shape reveals itself. It’s flatter on top and much more curved on the bottom—my tongue was not prepared! Instantly, I was obsessed. In my many years on this earth, I’d never been surprised by the shape of a spoon in my mouth. Have you? But here it was: my black swan moment of ice cream utensils.
Back at my hotel, I had to know more. I started typing the restaurant’s name into Google: “Wahaca—” and the first autocomplete suggestion? “Spoon.” Thank you, internet — I was not crazy.
Moreover, the first results revealed that the restaurant had once launched an amnesty program for customers to return “missing” spoons in exchange for free tacos. I scream, we scream: Wahaca ice cream spoon!
At this point, my obsession had reached the point of no return: I needed to recreate this spoon somehow (and had found no place to buy it online). At the very least, I wanted to share its surprise with friends because words alone could never describe what made it special. (Reminder: you can buy the spoon here)
I will spare you the many attempts at replicating the shape. The subtle magic of this spoon comes from a wonky combination of flatness, roundness, and chunkiness—every detail makes a difference. It took many tries, many iterations with different 3D designers, and many more 3D print orders.
Next was manufacturing. How *do* you make a custom plastic spoon? Who makes them? And for how much? I had a hunch about where to start based on previous projects: Alibaba (truly one of my favorite places on the internet—a digital field trip to the other side of the world!)
Lo and behold, I was soon chatting with 12 different suppliers in China, each peppering me with spec options I never knew existed—a striking reminder that even the simplest details of everyday life (plastic spoons!) conceal endless layers of complexity.
Our new chatbot overlords proved ingenious here. The suppliers asked me to choose among at least a dozen acronyms for different plastics: Did I want PET? ABS? PP? PMMA? PC? PS? CPET? HDPE? The Chinese-English language barrier was not going to help me find the right match—but ChatGPT surely did! I wanted food-grade, dishwasher-safe, microwave-safe, shiny, and with many color options. The pulsing dot thought for one second and replied: “PP HI381!” Cheerful exclamation mark and all.
The minimum order quantity was 300 per color—but the unit cost dropped rapidly with every additional hundred. I ordered 500 in two colors (Pantone 226C and 116C). After weeks of ocean shipping and a customs inspection in Long Beach (Harmonized Tariff Code 3924.10.4000, aka “Tableware & Kitchenware, of Plastic, others”), they arrived!
After all this time, I have yet to learn the original story behind these spoons. Did Wahaca commission them? (The originals are molded with Wahaca’s logo on them.) Are they a wholesale gimmick from restaurant suppliers? Who chose them for Wahaca, and why?
When I returned to Wahaca on my most recent trip to London, I approached one of the waiters: “I wanted to ask you about your spoons—” (save that for your next icebreaker!) But before I could say another word, she jumped in: “Oh, do you want one? Which color?” I immediately froze, fully unprepared for this turn of events. I stuttered, “Blue—” and then hurried away with spoon in hand but no new answers. Another visit will be in order—Wahaca’s true scheme here all along.
Great story!! I had no idea you were into this sort of thing!
I’m still sorting out how I feel about “Wahaca”.