In Highland Park, Beth Mensing plans to open her new ice cream shop on Feb. 21. (Photo: Michael Morain) By Michael Morain Editor If you’ve ever made ice cream at home, you know it takes patience. Opening an ice cream shop takes even more. It’s been almost four years since Beth Mensing spotted a “for lease” sign at the northeast corner of Sixth and Euclid and started dreaming. She drafted a business plan, talked to bankers and saved up money from selling pints of ice cream from her home. Month by month, she paid rent on the space while nosy neighbors pressed their faces to the windows, wondering when — or if — the doors would ever open. And now, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls: Scoops by Beth is set to open next Saturday, Feb. 21. It’s the next good reason to visit up-and-coming Highland Park. “It feels surreal. It’s finally happening,” Mensing said on Thursday afternoon in the roomy new kitchen. She was churning through several to-do lists — on Post-Its, on a whiteboard, in her head — while a commercial-grade ice cream machine hummed through a cleaning cycle by the back wall. Earlier, it had produced the first three 3-gallon batches that will land at the front counter: chocolate cookies and cream, cookie dough and vanilla. There’s space for a dozen flavors in all: five classics, five more daring flavors, one dairy-free option and one sorbet. The shop looks different than it did in its previous incarnations, as a laundromat, a piano and organ store, a Chicago dog and deli, a bakery and, most recently, a bathtub and shower refitting business. Now tulip stools line a counter at the front window, near retro tables and chairs. There are even a few tiny stools for antsy toddlers who have trouble sitting still, especially when ice cream is involved. Mensing took some color cues from the 1970s Tupperware bowls in orange, tan and avocado that her late grandparents, Gene and Norma Shaw, used to serve ice cream most Sunday nights when she was a kid. Grandma Norma added ingredients to the base, a mix from Anderson Erickson, before Grandpa Gene hauled the ice, salt and noisy wooden White Mountain machine down to the basement to work its magic. Mensing still uses that machine to make monster cookie ice cream because its “gritty, weird texture” could do a number on the commercial machine in the new kitchen. Through her home business, Pints by Beth, Mensing has spent the last decade experimenting with flavors. She finds ideas online, from friends and family, from a stack of cookbooks she used to peruse during breaks at a previous job at Barnes Noble. She named “The Lauren” after a friend who loved the Girl Scouts’ Caramel deLites (also known as Samoas). To celebrate an Irish man’s new American citizenship, she laced a batch of vanilla ice cream with caramel and Jameson whiskey, and paired it with cherry cheesecake ice cream to honor his American wife. For another party, she whipped up three varieties for a friend who worked part time at Peace Tree Brewing Co. (Blonde Fatale peach), worked part-time at Drake (chocolate peanut butter puppy chow) and was moving to Tucson (cinnamon sopaipilla). But she does have limits. Licorice is a no-go, she said. “I had a bad experience with sambuca in Rome when I was in college.” For now, Scoops by Beth’s staff of one plans to open the shop four days a week: 2-8 p.m. Thursday, 2-9 p.m. Friday, noon-9 p.m. Saturday and noon-8 p.m. Sunday. For the grand opening, Mensing has invited dozens of friends, Kickstarter donors and supporters from Invest DSM and the city’s Neighborhood Commercial Revitalization program. She’ll likely give a few extra scoops to the landlord, Bill Wheeler — “one of the nicest guys ever,” she said — who discounted her rent while she prepared for the opening. He told her someone had taken a chance on him years ago, when he bought the building, and he wanted to pay it forward. “This project has been a labor of love,” she said. “Even though I run the business on my own, so many people have contributed to this project and will help me reach the finish line for opening day.” ...read more read less