Whatever happened to? Wall's Ice Cream

James Aufenast
Friday 02 May 1997 19:02 EDT
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

In the long hot summer of 1976 every corner shop is an oasis of bright yellow Wall's ice-cream, while Tonibel or the more worryingly named Mr Softee ice-cream vans tinkle and meander their way through hot suburban streets, dispensing a white, spiralling mixture in a cone. In November, Roy Hattersley, Prices and Consumer Protection Minister, pronounces Wall's frozen foods a monopoly, though a "fair" one.

Then along comes 1989 and the new ice age. Haagen-Dazs, a New York-based specialist manufacturer using a soft scoop but a hard sell, brings sexy advertising to change the cosy, fluffy ice-cream industry for ever. Compare the ingredients - fresh cream, egg yolk, fresh skimmed milk, sugar, crushed vanilla beans from Madagascar - with Wall's Blue Ribbon Vanilla Soft Scoop: skimmed milk, dextrose, sugar, vegetable fat, whey solids, glucose syrup, emulsifier E471, stabilisers (sodium alginate, carob gum, guar gum), natural colours (curcumine, anatto), flavouring. Haagen-Dazs starts to win the cold war, gaining 8 per cent - from nothing - of the market in 1989.

Wall's fights back with its Twister lolly, a strawberry and vanilla ice- cream made using "rotating extrusion nozzle technology". But they've got the wrong end of the stick: in their new factory in Gloucester. with 32,000 litres an hour, they're producing quantity rather than quality. Times have changed. "With totally natural colours it is harder to create eye appeal," claims their general development manager. But there's also taste appeal ...

Profits for Unilever, the multinational owner of Wall's, plunge for the third quarter of 1992. Then in May 1994 another American brand pokes its icy toe into the British market. Ben & Jerry's, a tiny company founded from a renovated petrol station in Burlington, Vermont, launches its eco- conscious Rainforest Crunch to win the once-hippy, baby-boomer vote.

Unilever licks its wounds. Profits fall by pounds 64m for 1995, the hottest summer on record, although the UK ice-cream market has risen by 62 per cent in the Nineties.

You can still get Wall's vanilla ice-cream. But Unilever's Vaseline is probably a tastier product to market.

James Aufenast

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in