Summer lovin', had me a blast
Treats that kept me cool when I was a kid
Tupperware and Twin Pops
The kid’s beverage of choice in our house when I was a little girl was Kool-Aid. I remember Mom had a special drawer next to the sink where she kept colorful individual envelopes of the stuff — grape, cherry, orange, lemon-lime, raspberry and strawberry. It was always the “unsweetened” kind, which was something of a misnomer, considering you needed to add a full cup of sugar to each packet to make the drink.
My teeth hurt just thinking about it!
But at the time, man, Kool-Aid was the best! We always had a Tupperware pitcher of the stuff chilling in the fridge, and my sister and I would take turns choosing which flavor to make. Cherry was my favorite, while she was all about the grape.
When summer rolled around, in addition to the pitcher in the fridge, Mom would usually make sure she had some homemade Kool-Aid popsicles waiting in the freezer for us. Nothing fancy, just regular Kool-Aid poured into a Tupperware mold, but they sure were a welcome treat on a hot day.
Although I enjoyed homemade popsicles, every so often Mom would bring home some store-bought Twin Pops that tasted like bananas or root beer. Unlike Kool-Aid popsicles which were tongue-shaped and had a plastic stick that was part of the mold, Twin Pops were shaped like corrugated tin, could easily be broken into two parts with a quick tap against the edge of the counter, and each part had its own wooden stick.
You know, a popsicle stick.
And, although I can’t confirm it — having never actually asked them outright — I’ve long believed the only reason we ever got Twin Pops was because my folks liked to have those handy wooden sticks around the house “just in case”, and needed to keep their supplies up.
Dad used them to smear wood glue into tight spots, mix up batches of epoxy in his woodworking shop and shim reluctant cabinet doors. Mom tested the doneness of brownies and cakes with them, and used them as row labels in her garden. And my sister and I spent endless snow days making God’s Eyes and doll beds out of them.
When I was five, the neighbor boys and I were playing kickball in the vacant lot between our houses and I dislocated the middle finger of my left hand. I ran in the house crying and Dad handed me a banana Twin Pop. When I was done, he wiped those popsicle sticks on his pants leg, grabbed a roll of black electric tape, and taped the popsicle sticks and my middle and ring fingers all together, and declared me healed. Ten minutes later I was back outside playing no worse for the wear.
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Back when bananas were cool
Summer in Minnesota was the best when I was a kid, or at least that’s the way I remember it.
By either law, tradition or both, schools officially closed in time for Memorial Day weekend campouts and didn’t open up again until the State Fair finished after Labor Day weekend, meaning kids like me had nearly a hundred days of freedom. Although, to be honest, I loved school so much I’d usually spent the first few days of June teary-eyed.
Which worked out just fine, since our family had a rule that no one could go swimming until after Mom’s birthday on June 8 anyway – mostly because the water temperature was still dangerously cold before then. We could take out the canoe and ski boat, of course, but no jumping in the water.
While we waited for the water to warm up enough for marathon swims across the lake and long afternoons of water skiing, my sister and I and most of the other kids our age who lived on the gravel road that ran between the lake and the cornfield would take off on our bikes, headed to spots unknown.
Some days that meant we’d be out in the woods working on tree forts, down at the drainage ditch collecting frog eggs, or digging through broken boxes at the local dump – not the household dump, but the one where businesses and organizations ditched their excess stock or stuff they couldn’t sell. Man, did we find some treasures out there! I still have a whole pickle jar filled with Nixon-Agnew campaign buttons.
Other days we’d pedal the three miles into town and hang out at the public library or city park, or VBS. When we got hungry, we’d ride over to someone’s grandma’s or aunt’s house, and when we got thirsty, we’d find a water hose.
Once things warmed up, most days we’d make the seven-mile trek to the public beach, beach towels wrapped around our handlebars.
Life was pretty grand!
My favorite thing to do on those lovely summer days was to ride up the Big Hill beyond our house to a little wooden shed tucked between two neighborhoods where a white-haired man made and sold chocolate-covered frozen bananas. A quarter got you a whole banana on a stick, 15-cent got you half, with or without peanuts.
Even though the shed was small, I remember there being a couple of round metal tables and several chairs, and my sister and I would sit side-by-side and eat our frozen treats. We’d learned early that taking them to-go was a bad idea. Within minutes the chocolate would slide off and the banana would turn to mush, but inside the store, we could take our time.
And that’s just what we did for five summers – from the time I was seven until I turned twelve. We’d ride our bikes up the Big Hill, enjoy our frozen chocolate-covered bananas, then wind our way through the neighborhoods back home, talking a mile-a-minute about whatever came to mind.
And then things changed. My sister got her driver’s permit and then a summer job, and I had other more pressing things to do – marching band practice, beach days with friends, summer camp.
We grew up and grew apart, and suddenly hanging out together wasn’t cool anymore.
And neither were frozen chocolate-covered bananas.
Romeo and Julius, Orange Julius, that is
Although Orange Julius stands had been in California for nearly fifty years, it wasn’t until I was in junior high that I was introduced to the frothy sweetness of an Orange Julius — an introduction that forever changed what it meant to be cool during the summers of my youth.
As expected, it happened at a shopping mall. Not our local mall, which featured a book store, two diners and a JC Penneys, but a Big City Mall with a food court and parking lot icons. I was there with a friend and her parents, and when they suggested we take a break from shopping and grab a juice, I was all in.
I still remember that first sip.
On the car ride back home, Linda and I bemoaned our fate: too young to drive and three hours away from the thing we both loved the most.
Over the next days and weeks we spent every available minute trying to 1) convince someone to drive us to the Big City Mall and 2) replicate the taste of an Orange Julius using our seventh-grade home-ec skills. It was a wild time to be young!
I don’t recall how we came across the recipe for what would become our summer drink obsession for the next several years; if we created it ourselves, were given it by someone else or found it in a teen publication somewhere.
What I do remember, however, is how grown up and sophisticated we felt sipping Orange Julius drinks instead of Kool-Aid.
Copyright 2025 Lori Olson White
1969 Frozen Chocolate-Covered Banana Recipe
Ingredients:
8 bananas
Lemon juice
8 small wooden skewers
¼ cup butter or margarine
¼ cup light corn syrup
2 tablespoons water
1 - 6 oz package semi-sweet chocolate pieces
1 - 6 oz package sweet chocolate pieces
Chopped nuts, coconut, sprinkles, multicolored candies
Instructions:
Peel bananas; dip in lemon juice; insert wooden skewer in end of each banana; freeze. Combine butter, corn syrup and water in saucepan.
Bring to boil; remove from heat, add chocolate pieces; stir until smooth. Dip frozen bananas into chocolate.
Spread evenly and scrape off excess coating with small spatula. (If mixture becomes too thick, place pan in larger pan of very hot water.)
Spread with nuts, coconut, sprinkles or small candies if desired.
Place on lightly greased shallow pan. Return to freezer immediately. Do not allow bananas to soften. Serve frozen. 1
1973 Orange Julius Recipe
Ingredients:
1 egg
¾ cup orange juice
2 teaspoons sugar
4 tablespoons instant on-fat dry milk
4 crushed ice cubes
Instructions:
Place all the ingredients in order given in an electric blender. Blend at highest speed a few seconds until smooth and thickened. Pour into glass and serve. 2
Your turn and your culinary traditions
What sounds signaled the arrival of your favorite summer treat? Was it the chime of an ice cream truck, the whir of a blender, or the snap of a freezer door? What did you feel when you heard it?
Describe the texture, taste, and temperature of a specific frozen treat from your childhood. What made that first bite unforgettable, no matter how many times you had it?
Did you ever make your own summer treats—blending fruit for a smoothie, freezing juice in ice cube trays, or stacking sandwich cookies with ice cream? Who showed you how, and how did those homemade versions compare to store-bought?
Was there a person—parent, sibling, friend, neighbor—you most often shared summer treats with? Tell the story of one memorable moment you shared something frozen and sweet with someone else.
What flavors did you love as a kid? Think beyond vanilla and chocolate—what about banana popsicles, rainbow sherbet, or blue raspberry slushies? Do you still like them, or has your taste changed?
Recall a specific scorching summer day when a cold treat offered more than refreshment—maybe it brought comfort, celebration, or even a moment of calm during chaos.
Describe the place where you most often got your summer treats—a corner store, poolside snack bar, ice cream parlor, or grandma’s kitchen. What did it smell like? Who worked there? What did the menu or freezer case look like?
Were there certain treats you only had on special occasions—after a baseball game, during a vacation, at a family picnic? Why were those moments and those treats connected?
Have you come across a frozen treat in recent years that brought back a flood of childhood memories? Describe the moment you rediscovered it—and how it felt to be taken back in time by a taste.
In case you missed it
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End Notes:
1 “Chocolate Bananas Appeal to Vacationing Youngsters”, The Solano-Napa News Chronicle, July 30, 1969, P 12.
2 “Homemakers’ Forum”, The Daily Herald, Everett, WA, June 7, 1973, P. 15.
Love the recipes -- and the medical advice! Who knew -- banana splints!
Oh, I remember all of that. We enjoyed the same freedom in summer, didn't go back to school until after Labor Day, jumped on our bikes in the morning and rode them down to the beach, about a mile away, grabbed a shaved ice, etc., We didn't have to go home until 6 pm. We also went to the mall, and my mom bought my sisters and me an Orange Julius. Life was so much simpler then :)