Sweet Nostalgia: Sundays, Ice Cream & Childhood Memories in Jamaica ©Dawn Minott |with audio

On By Dawn MinottIn Prose

Step into the heartwarming world of my Jamaican childhood, where Sundays meant simple joys, sumptuous feasts, and the sweet allure of “Fudgie” and his magical ice cream.

As a child growing up in my beautiful homeland, Jamaica, one of the cherished highlights of my week was indulging in the sweet delight of ice cream on Sundays.

In those bygone days, life was uncomplicated, and our Sunday rituals were set in stone. The day would kick off with my mother’s early-morning culinary expedition, as fragrant spices swirled on the gentle morning breezes, teasing our senses with the promise of a delightful feast ahead.

After a hearty breakfast, it was time to tackle the obligatory household chores — everything from tidying up the house, sweeping the yard, and laboriously hand-washing laundry. However, one task I dreaded above all was when my mother had to wash my hair. My thick, coiled locks had a knack for coiling even tighter when wet, and the process of combing through them left me grimacing all the way through. But when mommy was through, my hair was neatly plaited and ready for the school week ahead.

Once all the chores were behind us and I had been bathed and dressed in my “Sunday clothes,” it was time to gather around the table for what we Jamaicans refer to as “Sunday dinner.”

“Sunday dinner” was no ordinary meal; it was the pinnacle of the week in every Jamaican household.

The traditional spread included a principal meat (typically chicken as the crowd favorite); a carbohydrate staple (rice and peas being an absolute must); a salad comprising crisp cabbage and grated carrots, adorned with cucumber and tomato wedges, drizzled with black pepper; a refreshing beverage (often freshly squeezed from carrots, soursop, or beets); and, last but certainly not least, dessert.

And oh, the dessert!

While savoring the flavors of our sumptuous meal, my ears were tuned to a singular sound and an unmistakable voice – the distant chime of the “ice cream man’s” motorbike horn. This unique sound carried for miles across our tranquil town, giving us just enough time to secure the coins from our parents and gather at our designated meeting spot.

Then came the voice, a melodic, resounding and repeated call: “Fudge! Ice cream! Nutty-buddy!”

This was the unmistakable voice of the “ice cream man,” affectionately known as “Fudgie,” pedaling his bike, vocally advertising the frozen treasures nestled within the insulated box on the back of his two-wheeler.

National Gallery of Jamaica

Fudge was essentially ice cream on a stick, while nutty-buddy was a delightful ice cream cone adorned with a generous sprinkling of nuts, and ice cream, usually grape nut, piled atop the iconic beacon cone.

By this point, my friends had also gathered their coins, dashing over from their homes across the neighborhood, all of us adorned in our Sunday clothes – the girls with meticulously plaited hair and the boys making sure they were equally well-groomed. We would encircle Fudgie, simultaneously clamoring for our chosen treats.

To this day, ice cream holds a special place in my heart as my all-time favorite dessert. Why? Because it transports me back to an era when life was uncomplicated, Sundays were enchanting, and I’m eternally nostalgic for the home that lives on vividly in my heart, just as it was when I was a child growing up in Jamaica. 

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In creative solidarity, Dee

67 thoughts on “Sweet Nostalgia: Sundays, Ice Cream & Childhood Memories in Jamaica ©Dawn Minott |with audio”

  4. Unknown's avatar Anonymous

    Yes iyah! Those were the good old days. Those were the dandy shandy, baseball with the milk box ball, and the Chinese skip and the many other creative games that we had. They are gone never to come back. We were happy children despite not having much. We were free spirited with not a care in the world so different from the children today. How I long for that day when we will be with our savior having happiness for eternity. Thanks Dee for a glimpse in what is to come. This was just such a breath of fresh air in a time like this one.

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    1. Yes iyah fe true!!!!! I remember those days well. And making dolls from grass roots. Every cack-up is a ten in dandy shandy. With very little but we were happy. Today kids have so much and are unhappy or unsatisfied. My heart bleeds for them. We were born in a time when life was truly uncomplicated. I’m grateful.

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  7. Thanks for sharing your treasured memories Dawn. Although born in the UK of Jamaican parents, your post took me back to my Sunday childhoods and the ubiquitous Sunday dinner of Chicken with rice and peas. Our dessert though was normally apple pie with custard!

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    1. Hey ladycee. So glad you enjoyed the post. One thing about Jamaicans— no matter where we roam our culture and traditions stay strong. Apple pie 🥧 and custard 😋 yummy 🤤 Thanks for stopping by. See you again soon 🇯🇲 🇬🇧

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          1. Thank you so much for following my two blogs Dawn – appreciated. I have followed yours and look forward to getting into your backlog. We seem to be similar in character and creative aspirations. Have a blessed weekend.

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            1. Hi ladycee😊 thanks for the follow. I very much enjoyed your posts that I read—I think it’s powerful to use every platform and spaces we have to let others know of the love of God. Keep up the life-saving posts. I look forward to reading more.

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  8. Unknown's avatar Anonymous

    Yes Rasta. Those were the days. Our drink was ginger lemonade or carrot juice with lime.

    The brown stew chicken was the BEST.

    Thanks for this reminder.

    My only problem with Sunday was the fact that I couldn’t go back outside and ramp once mi “baid”. It was time to sit indoors and relax. Well for a seriously active young boy, this was torture. The only soothing to the torment was the music Daddy played before and during his radio programme.

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  9. I relate to this. Very. Sundays were glorious like that for me too in my native Belize. And the Icecream vendor! …

    In the first half of this year, the Icecream man from my carefree days died and I felt it so deeply that I wrote a post on it: The Life-giving Properties Of The Icecream Man

    Your post is a delight to read. I loved everything about it.
    Happy reminiscing. Great memories.
    Stay blessed. I wish you miracles. Xoxo

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    1. Ahhhh you’re a Caribbean “girl” too. I love Belize. Yes in deed, the ice cream man was a signature part of shaping the culture of our communities. I can see how the passing of yours would affect you so deeply.

      Thanks for this positive interaction Salma. Glad to know we are Caribbean kin. Cheers 🇯🇲 🇧🇿

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    1. My very early years were in a rural part of the country, high up in the mountains of one of our 14 parishes, St Andrew. Discipline was the mainstay of my life for sure. We didn’t have much but my mom raised us in and with grace. I didn’t know or felt like we were poor. A simple uncomplicated life.

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    2. Unknown's avatar Anonymous

      Dawn, one word. Sentimental..!

      Thanks for the childhood memories of Sundays past. My Sunday treat after eating Sunday dinner was to wait for “Fudgie Man” to stop by our gate at home and to show us kids the various treats in his ice box. My favorite was the Cream Cake with its brown crust wrapped around vanilla ice cream😋

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