Campbell’s Dairyland | Brandon

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Campbell’s Dairyland in Brandon is small town Americana, an ice cream institution. Their extensive menu of food and ice cream is delicious, so it’s not merely nostalgia. We recently visited Campbell’s one hot summer evening for some light eats and frozen treats. It has instantly become for us a tradition of the season, which in Florida is pretty much all year long.

I’m not one to kneejerk knock the new and exclusively embrace the old. There are a place and time for new spots. But when I am feeling nostalgic, hungry for a classic casual meal, and feeling the urge for frozen cream and sugar, I now know where my destiny lies. Under a tin umbrella with hot fudge and a cherry on top.

Reminiscing a thing unknown to me

I’ve never sucked on a chili dog outside a Tastee-Freez, double entendre though that suddenly seems. (Though, if he’s not being literal, what does the chili represent?) I grew up in a dying river town miles from an ice cream stand.

The best we had was a little market that sold bricks of rock-hard Hershey’s that had to rest a spell on the counter before you could scoop a serving. Our utensil drawer looked like Uri Geller’s. If you bought a carton before dinner, it would be scoopable by the time a furry alien with a big schnozzola removed a lens cap to funky basslines and melodic piano.

Retro is cool, but ice cream is cooler

Here in the eastern suburbs of Tampa—in what I call The Hell of a Thousand Strip Malls—vintage drive-in ice cream stands are few and far between. And good luck finding hand-dipped; there’s precious few dealing the hard-stuff.

More than several chains dispense soft-serve, with a couple pushing the dark-stuff—frozen yogurt. Others dispense mediocre or gimmicky products, from 31 flavors to pastel pellets, to spilled cream scraped off an icy stone with a putty knife. Thanks, Howard Johnson.

A few mom and pop shops exist, which I will try sometime soon. Even so, these seem more slots in a shopping center, not neighborhood social centers—drive-in style places with burgers, dogs, fries, cokes, and banana splits, ala American Graffiti (if you’re a Norman Rockwell) or Hollywood Knights (if you’re more Robert Crumb).

NSFW. Maybe.

The urge for ice cream overtook me on the way home one late afternoon. Christa felt it too. I was in the mood for relaxed, casual, and with a place to sit and enjoy the moment. Maybe we’d get a bit to eat first. Something of the aforementioned nostalgia would be nice, too.

Luckily for my wishy-washiness, there was only one spot I could think of that would do that trick.

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Campbell’s Dairyland
200 S Parsons Ave
Brandon, FL 33511
Phone: (813) 685-1189
Monday to Thursday – 11:00 a.m. to 10:00 p.m.
Friday – 10:30 a.m. to 11:00 p.m.
Saturday – 11:00 a.m. to 11:00 p.m.
Sunday – 1:00 p.m. to 10:00 p.m.
https://www.facebook.com/Campbells-Dairyland-109412046015/

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So we changed course for Campbell’s Dairyland. A visit a few months ago left us with a good feeling for the place. I liked its old-school style that evoked hot summers in clay-stained little league uniforms pulling thick shakes through straws and making hot dogs disappear in three bites. The burgers were tasty and the ice cream cones hit the spot. Now we’d see if they could satisfy again.

Atmosphere, Prices, and Quality

Campbell’s Dairyland history only goes back as far as 1985 when Boyd Campbell first opened shop as Dairy Isle. That’s a bit later than the drive-ins of the cinematic ’60s,  but the place certainly has the feel of a generations-old institution. And since I was ten when the first cone was sold, I consider it retro and nostalgic.

Campbell’s Dairyland has a happening menu for being a square shack. The old-fashioned backlit panels run halfway around the four walls. You might be familiar with my indecisive nature. Well, this menu sends it like a runaway train of dark fury coursing through my synapses.

 

The food ranges from cheap to mid-range. Campbell’s Dairyland isn’t dollar burgers and fries but the prices are competitive with market standards—higher than Steak n’ Shake, lower than Ford’s Garage, on par with a Wayback or Five Guys. A third-pound burger for $6.59 seems a wee bit stiff, even if it tastes great. Adding fries and a drink makes it almost ten bucks—not outrageous, but not fast-food-cheap either. Still, it’s quality food and you can probably feel better about eating it than chain food.

The hot dogs at Campbell’s Dairyland are more budget-friendly. The quality is great—look, it’s a hotdog. I don’t know who makes theirs, but if the bun is fresh, there’s plenty of topping choices, and I don’t find a finger inside, it’s a win.   

I’ll be the first to advocate a Hebrew National over a Bar-S if I pass you in the grocery store, but once a weiner is in the starchy bun, topped with mustard, onions, kraut, and whatever else—the ever-diminishing taste of the frank loses the value to nitpick cents. 

Ice cream is what elevates Campbell’s above local competitors. The prices are really reasonable and competitive. The flavors, types, and options are galore. From standard high butterfat fare to sugar-free, Dole Whip (nonfat and dairy free), cones, cups, shakes and malts, frozen novelties made in-house, and sundaes. Hard ice cream isn’t cheap in Florida, but then there are precious fewer dairies than back in Lancaster.

So many choices, so little stomach

At a glance,  Campbell’s main menu strikes you as common to this type of establishment. Then you eyes drift from stalwart burgers and dogs and fried shrimp baskets to audacious eats like Caribbean Salad, Reubens, Jerk Chicken sands, and then the obligatory Cuban (It’s Florida law—if you are open to the public, you must offer Cubanos). This job required decision making—a skill for which I woefully lack.

Christa knew what she wanted from the word go: a Regular Hot Dog, onions, relish, 86 the mustard, add ketchup. Hey, it’s her dog, let her dress it. She had also been thinking about one of their many homemade frozen novelties, specifically the Dandy Bar. She plucked one from the freezer as soon as we entered.

Why would someone enter a shop stocked with pillowy soft-ice cream and vibrant hand-dipped in an array of tasty flavors and go straight for a hard lump of vanilla frozen to a stick and encased in a thin chocolate shell? My friends, I have no idea. But the idea was pinned to her thoughts for several months.

Laboring under the burden of choice, I told myself to make it simple and pick something basic and small. Having tried a Wowburger the previous visit, this left the hot dog as the obvious choice. How’s that for decision making? Might not seem elementary to you, but for me, this is a real breakthrough. Besides, I had to think fast; Christa’s Dandy Bar was melting.

I chose a Regular Hot Dog (standard with deli mustard, onions, and relish). All dogs are served with chips and a half-spear of a kosher pickle for $2.99. That’s not a bad deal. I decided to mull over my ice cream options while I waited for the hot food.

That hot dog was the most, daddy-o. The sundae was everything plus.

The Dogs

I’ll spare you an ode to the tube steak. It was a tasty sandwich of poppy seed bun and processed meat with zesty condiments. Everything seemed quality and the dog had snap and good taste. The flavor wasn’t too vinegary or too salty, as far as I could tell over the rest of the toppings. Christa enjoyed hers, too and we agreed we’d return when in the mood for hot dogs beyond the convenience of the gas station roller grill after a fill-up. That is until a Deerhead comes to town.

Candy is dandy, but…

Christa had finisher her oversized ice cream bar with some disappointment. The imagination is a persistent enemy of satisfaction and her thinky-box had her expecting a bar of vanilla ice cream chock-full of toffee pieces and caramel or something.

But the Dandy Bar was just what I imagined when she freed it from the freezer: a lump of ice vanilla on a stick in a thin shell of chocolate with bits of candy in the coating—albeit a hefty lump. My thinky-box is used to disappointment; it expects it.

Some customers must love them otherwise they Campbell’s wouldn’t bother making them. It’s just not for us. What would I do for a Klondike Bar? My level worst. What can I do to ensure you won’t give me one?  

Now, if you’re offering a Chief Crunchy, we can talk.

More Decisions

The magic of Campbell’s lies with their ice cream sundaes. Sure, a scoop of hand-dipped on a sugar cone or a swirl of soft-serve in a waffle cone are a satisfying treat in and of themselves. But drop that ice cream into a deep bowl over a banana split down the middle, drown it in hot fudge, smother it in marshmallow sauce, dress it in whipped cream, and bedazzle it with chopped nuts and a maraschino cherry and you’ve just elevated satisfying treat to ecstatic decadence.

And maybe committed a ritual food murder.

I had not treated myself to a sundae in forever. I sometimes forget that, as an adult, I can eat whatever I want whenever I want (as long as my tum-tum agrees). The descriptions of Campbell’s sundae creations reawoke my sleeping shoggoth of indecision. I needed help.

Campbell’s Dairyland presents a rotating special sundae at a discount price on select days and the current one was the Peanut Butter Cup Sundae – “Two Mounds of Vanilla Ice Cream, Peanut Butter Topping, Hot Fudge, Crushed Peanuts, Whipped Cream, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup on each end, Topped With Chocolate Sprinkles and a Cherry.”

At Christa’s suggestion it sounded right up my alley, and somewhat sinful. I did consider a simple hot fudge number to keep it simple and classy, but in the end, I was feeling uncouth, irreverent, and wild. This was the sundae for the me in the now. I just hated it for the me in the later.

After a short hemming and hawing, I went all in and ordered it. I was killing this decision making tonight.

The Sundae

In no time, the Peanut Butter Cup Sundae arrived and, let me just say, when I pictured the sundae as described, this is what I imagined. Disappointment had no footing on this day—everything was coming up Rocco.

Hot fudge pooled in the saddles and spurs of a small mountain range of vanilla soft-serve under a slick of creamy peanut butter sauce that eroded the peaks under clouds of whipped cream seeded with chocolate jimmies and two vibrant suns of maraschino. Scalloped ramparts of chocolate buttressed each end and a quick excavation proved them to be as deep as they were projecting—each was a whole peanut butter cup. Campbell’s hadn’t skimped out by cutting them in half. My heroes.

I pulled my spoon from the plateau of Leng and began the strip mining process, first extracting the sweet fudgy crude with lumps of vanilla ice cream. Then I aimed for the strata of peanut butter which had a natural taste but with a sweeter finish and smoother texture.

Each bite was nearly impossible to refine and had hints and suggestions of something else—the fudge carried some vanilla, the PB carried some cream, the ice cream carried some of everything. The result was a symphony of contamination and it warmed my soul as it froze my temples.

I extracted a PB cup and tried to cut it with the spoon. The cold confection had hardened the candy against the plastic spade. To avoid sticky fingers, there was nothing for it but to pop the whole thing into my mouth. I slowly savored and chewed, vainly keeping my lips sealed in consideration of the neighbors.

I continued reducing the mountains to a mire leaving the cherries for last (as always) at the bottom of the quarry. Each one was enjoyed in final spoons of fudge, peanuts, and cold sweet cream. This bowl was clean. 

Diversifying my Investments

I want to visit Campbell’s Dairyland every day; I just don’t have the metabolism for that kind of diet. Besides, there are other spots for vittles to try. I can’t write posts about the same five spots over and over and our budget won’t support daily dining out.

Campbell’s Dairyland food is mood enhancing, spirit-lifting, and artery clogging. Maybe. I’m no nutritionist. Just enjoy everything in moderation. We’ll have to make Campbell’s Dairyland a once-a-month tradition and I’ll slowly work my way across the menu frieze of grilled, fried, and frozen creations. Perhaps a Reuben next, or the Cubano. In the meantime, I need to study those sundae menus and choose my next exploit.

Where are the fast food prices? They’re back in the eighties before perpetual inflation and soaring beef prices. Mom and Pop’s don’t have the resources to meet chain prices (and maybe shouldn’t try). As I mentioned in past posts, I’m also paying for the experience and supporting the community.

I know that franchise owners (sometimes) and the employees of the chains are part of the community, too. But they don’t lack for customers. If I can swing it financially, I support the private firms because they offer what I want.

Incidentally, I had a burger from the Scottish place yesterday for the first time in almost a year and I wish I had my dollar+tax back. It was so vapid I actually regretted losing a crumpled old dollar. The experience wasn’t worth the caloric intake either.

Campbell’s Dairyland may be a small-town ice cream shack, but they strive for quality and deliver a good value. If you want something under five bucks and more in keeping with the atmos, then go with the hot dog. Yes, I could get one at Circle K for a buck, but Campbel’s use soft poppy seed buns, offers more condiments and fries or onion rings, and you eat it mere feet from hot fudge.

This is all part of the neighborhood drive-in ice cream stand experience: The basket of hot dog and chips, the cone of ice cream, the umbrella-shaded tables filled with your neighbors (thirty-minute radius neighbors; 60 minutes during the school year), and a sky full of setting sun on a waning summer afternoon. I’ll willingly throw in a few extra bucks for that.

Use it while you got it

Campbell’s Dairyland is the type of place where the old fellas meet for a treat and talk about the weather, where the local youth teams go after games, where families go for a summer supper on a Friday night. It’s also probably seen a few first dates. It’s the neighborhood hub for quick bites, cool treats, and socializing. But then, maybe I’m just waxing nostalgic again.

Such institutions have been largely replaced by corporate and modern chains that simply do what comes natural—replace older concepts as people adapt and change their wants, needs, and whims.

I’ve passed by Jeremiah’s Italian Ice many times when the lines stretched too long for my precious time. But I have stopped when there’s no wait because I like the modern places, too. And, oh, what I wouldn’t give for an authentic Italian water ice stand like the ones I grew up with that had only one option: lemon. With pulp and a few stray seeds.

The modern competitors to Campbell’s Dairyland seem to me to lack the heart, the comfortable, the personality, the neighborhood comradery. But new places are a part of the new generations. They are the touchstone for their past, generations from now.

Younger generations don’t share my ideas or memories for the Eighties, let alone those of the Fifties or Sixties. That’s okay, though; their memories and ideals aren’t necessarily right and theirs aren’t wrong. They’re just different. If I want mine to persist, I need to be involved or they might be gone tomorrow.

In the suburbs of Tampa where the Hell of a Thousand Developments demands the Hell of a Thousand Strip Malls, it’s likely that places like Campbell’s Dairyland will continue to slip into the past like soda fountains and lunch counters before them. To do my part in delaying that inevitability, I’m going to enjoy these bits of heaven as often as I can.

And in the end

Campbell’s Dairyland reminds me of the Dairy Palace back home and the fictitious drive-ins of the silver screen. It is a fading touchstone to a time long gone. Idealistic small-town Americana is about memories and memories tend to be strongest for the happy times over the sad. It is these happy times that we long for when wishing for times long gone.

The answer to the wish is to make new memories. I can’t speak for others, but I don’t have too many memories of standing in long lines for chain food.

Sweet nostalgia aside, we’re talking about food, here. Campbell’s Dairyland is a one-stop shop—dinner and dessert. So, when you find yourself in the Brandon area, I urge you to give them a try. The food is tasty, made to order, and of quality products. The sundaes are a perfect reward for a job well done or just for surviving another day. We look forward to more visits to our new tradition in an old established piece of Brandon. Helping to keep positive traditions alive is the cherry on top.

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• Where is your favorite spot for ice cream?  What are your nostalgia touchstones?  Does this dress make me look fat? 

Please comment with any questions, critiques, or greetings. I’d love to hear from you.

Thanks for Reading!