These ice cream cakes aren't just good; they're the Beese Knees
Who drives through a blizzard to pick up an ice-cream cake? I do, apparently, and I'm glad I did. I'm also glad I lived to eat it.

WHO DRIVES through a blizzard to pick up an ice-cream cake? Me, apparently, and I'm glad I did. I'm also glad I lived to eat it.
This past February, my wife surprised me with my kind of birthday present: a "Mustachio Pistachio," from the Beese Knees, a new frozen confectionery based in Powelton Village. The beautiful cake, in all its vanilla-cardamom'd, pistachio'd and choco-crunchified glory, was ready for us. All we needed to do was go get it.
As we "Tokyo Drift"-ed from South Philly to West Philly and back, tires spinning and kicking up slush every time I braked and swerved to avoid plowing over bundled-up pedestrians and manic children in mittens, I couldn't help but think: Dessert better be worth it.
Oh, it was.
And now that the local forecast is a little less arctic, the Beese Knees is emerging from the igloo to make brain-freeze believers out of the rest of you.
Kids' stuff reimagined
Leave it to two Jersey Shore kids to start an ice-cream company. Tom Williamson and Kristina Beese, whose last name inspires that aw-shucks company name, grew up in Ocean City. The couple went to high school together but didn't know each other that well until they reconnected years later here in the city.
Williamson is a carpenter by day; Beese is a full-time nanny for a family in Queen Village. She's also an avid home cook and baker who had never experimented with making her own ice cream until last August, when she made a plan to put together "something really special" for her boyfriend's birthday.
Inspired by the built-in and very specific nostalgia of ice-cream cakes - you never forget those childhood bowling-alley birthdays, with Fudgie the Whale or frozen Ninja Turtles - Beese began researching ways to make one from scratch, wondering if the format could stand up to some more grown-up flavors.
After coming up with the ice cream itself - combining organic heavy cream and organic condensed milk takes well to freezing in a mold, no heavy churning required - Beese ended up with the proto-version of what's now called the "Olde Fashioned": a pretzel-and-brownie bottom, with coffee ice cream, bourbon ice cream, a layer of chocolate "crunchies" and fine-shaved dark chocolate on top.
Cakes for a crowd
The cake was a hit with Williamson and with various friends who negotiated a slice. "Everyone was just floored by how delicious it was," said Williamson. It took him a little while to convince Beese that they were onto something more than just a hobby, but she eventually agreed.
Things moved fast from there. In September, Williamson leaned on his building skills to create a custom, boardwalk-style ice cream cart, tricked out on spoked bicycle wheels, to vend at the Hamilton Street Porch Sale in their neighborhood. In the interests of speed and ease, they created miniature cupcake-size versions of their cakes, which proved popular with the walk-and-talk crowd.
In October, the couple registered an LLC. In November, they were building custom cakes out of their home for family and friends; in December, they sold out of wares at the Punk Rock Flea Market.
Then came time to develop some more flagship flavors, like the "Ed Rendell," built around pretzel-infused ice cream. It's so named because the former mayor and governor declared April 26 as National Pretzel Day.
"Every time somebody asks us why it's called the Ed Rendell, and we tell them, they tell us an Ed Rendell food story," said Williamson. (His: He once met the guv at the Henri David Halloween Ball, and Rendell complimented his homemade Pringles canister costume.)
In March, Beese Knees moved into a large commissary kitchen in East Falls, which they share with established food-truckers like Spotburger, Street Food Philly and Say Cheese.
Earlier this month, they won the "innovative food" category of the Enterprise Center's 2015 "Cooking Up Success" competition, which earned them money to put toward their city paperwork goals - a special events permit, so that they could participate in more festivals and farmers markets, and a wholesale license to sell their stuff to shops and restaurants.
All about the cravings
This steady growth is not a coincidence. The Beese Knees has struck some kind of nerve within the local food community - maybe because, through flavor and texture, they've figured out a way to mature a treat so closely associated with sugar-addled kids.
"For me, it's just cravings that I have. I lay in bed at night, like, 'What about . . . ?' " said Beese of the elegant flavors her cakes take - vanilla-rosemary and balsamic roasted strawberry ice creams in the "Short Rosie," or the lemon-and-ricotta direction she's playing with for an upcoming addition.
Speaking of adults, they're also looking to break into the wedding market. On June 28, they'll host a tasting event in West Philly for prospective married types who might be seeking something a little different for their big day.
No matter which direction the Beese Knees pivots in next, and regardless of how sophisticated their offerings may become, their truest sense of satisfaction remains simple.
"When people are right in front of our cart, eating and telling us how much they like it, that's a great feeling," she said. "All the gratification is right there."