As a kid, I prided myself on having adventurous tastes. Perhaps wanting to prove my culinary precocity, I often sought out the most unconventional option on the menu at any restaurant. This led me to discovering and delighting in flavors beyond the realm of lunchables and mac and cheese. Ice cream became a medium where I could explore intense and unfamiliar flavors by the wooden sampling spoon-ful. Pistachio, coffee, coconut, lavender. Rich, sweet, floral, balanced. When I entered the doors of Oh Yeah! Ice Cream and Coffee, I wasn’t expecting my adventurous philosophy to meet its match.
I only went to Oh Yeah! once, on a late spring day in 2014 with my parents and little sister. The name, which I understood as the customer’s reaction to their offerings, was promising to tweenage me. Located in the Shadyside neighborhood of Pittsburgh, Oh Yeah! was set back from the sidewalk, with picnic tables in front of the shop for summertime snacking. Three tall steps led to the doors inside, and I entered, thinking I knew what to expect. They self-described as “Pittsburgh’s most eccentric haven for ice cream, coffee, and waffle enthusiasts,” and the interior decoration at least lived up to the eccentricity. It was dimly lit for an ice cream shop, and street signs attached to a makeshift signpost positioned the establishment at the intersection of time and space. There was a stoplight on a wall, lit up green. The door to the bathroom was a mirror, which I discovered was one-way when I went in to use the facilities. A taxidermied deer head was mounted next to the blackboard with their offerings. Honestly, I was a little creeped out.
Credit: Meagan R. on Yelp
The maximalist decor turned out to be a reflection of their offerings. While their ice cream flavor selection had a small lineup of the basics, with the addition of coffee and green tea, the topping options were seemingly endless. I’m sure they offered normal things like sprinkles and hot fudge, but these were nearly impossible to find in the sea of multicolored writing on the blackboard. What stuck out to me was the advertisement of bee pollen, bacon, and squirrel meat. Were they serious? I could get my ice cream topped with magic and love, but were those concepts or codewords? The certainty of their name didn’t match the confusion, the paradox of choice that I faced inside Oh Yeah! on that day. My philosophy of adventure had found a worthy challenger. I can’t remember what I ended up ordering, but I have a feeling it was one of the tamer options on the menu. No squirrel meat for me.
Credit: Christine B. on Foursquare City Guide.
Not a year after that bizarre experience, Oh Yeah! had closed its doors permanently, potentially due to the state backlash the owner received after opening an alternative banking scheme through which customers could earn interest in the form of gift cards. Looking back at the experience, I’m surprised that I don’t remember what I ate, but sometimes the ambiance of an establishment, however strange, sticks with me long after the memory of the food. Since Oh Yeah!’s closing I have relished in the flavors offered by other craft ice cream shops with less sinister decor, including at Millie’s, whose flagship location stands at the former site of Oh Yeah! As I’ve grown and my tastes have begun to solidify, I no longer seek out the most odd flavor at ice cream shops. Well, there was that one time I sampled Jeni’s everything bagel flavor, but I ended up ordering a single of their brambleberry crisp instead. Though I do still like to seek out unique restaurants, I do not miss the apparent philosophy of overwhelm that seemed to govern Oh Yeah!’s design and menu.
Phoebe Brown OC ’24 is a lover of seafood and most food majoring in environmental studies. They are into sustainable agriculture and food justice, and are often dreaming about the perfect tomato sandwich.
