The scoop on a Dearborn custard shop: It’s great, but look both ways
The first car to smash into the custard shop was a red Grand Cherokee, minding its business on Outer Drive in Dearborn when somebody headed southwest ran a red light on Monroe Street. The impact spun the Jeep into a wall on the Monroe side of the building, right beneath the pink sign that says The Custard Company.
That was in June 2021, and the mention of a first crash suggests there was a second. Sure enough, seven months later, a white Mercury Milan on Outer disregarded a red light and got itself T-boned. Spinning out of control on icy pavement, it banged into the shop and did unsightly things to some cinder blocks, a picture window and a metal frame.
It was a sizeable pain in the sprinkles for Custard Company owner Jamal Jawad, but ultimately a fine thing for me.
The Custard Company's VP of marketing and operations reached out Monday to tell me the shop is operating a monthlong pop-up at Little Caesars Arena, to rave reviews. On a frigid day with sleet and snow pending, custard sounded inexplicably good. But I probably wouldn't have driven 24 miles for it if Google hadn't turned up the oddity of two separate motor vehicles thumping one innocent storefront.
That, I had to know more about. So I popped by, unannounced, and learned a whole menu of things, starting with the definition of ashta, a Middle Eastern clotted cream prepared with rose and orange blossom waters. Turn ashta into a custard, pack the custard into a cone, use a long metal tube to open a cavern in the substantial serving, fill it with pistachio syrup imported from Turkey, roll it in crushed pistachios, and Lordamercy, you're on to something.
Also, the marketing VP, Karim Kadouh, is all of 18 years old and a freshman at the University of Michigan-Dearborn. When he was still in high school, he applied for the PPP loan application that helped Jawad weather the pandemic and the grant that paid for the heated patio where ashta custard can be comfortably savored even in the middle of winter.
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Furthermore, Jawad is a 33-year-old Ford software engineer with a business executive wife and two young daughters along with two custard shops, the other being in Dearborn Heights. He only sleeps four to six hours a night, but at least he doesn't have to range far to get a sugar rush.
Finally, a bit of advice from someone who tried to pick up a Sweet Bun, a sandwich with custard or hard ice cream and toppings in the middle and the shell of a filled donut as the bread:
If someone at the custard shop gives you a spoon, use it.
Craving the merchandise
Jawad's dad, Hassan, owned the gas station across Outer Drive for 32 years. He can attest that no previous automobiles had targeted what's now a white storefront with pink trim.
The Custard Company flagship had been a carryout pizza shop until Jawad made an offer. Pizza is too complicated and too competitive, he reasoned, and the closest place to get frozen custard was Greenfield Village, so he cleared out the oven and brought in ice cream mixers.
“It’s just in my blood,” he said, meaning entrepreneurship rather than custard although at this point it’s probably close.
He created what he calls loaded cones — ashta, Oreo, strawberry shortcake and the like, injected with syrups — and also a custard waffle and custard pies to go with the standard sundaes and flurries.
He still loves them. Kadouh appreciates them, but he’s been working for his family friend since the opening when he was just shy of 15, and he’s burned out on frozen desserts.
“I can’t even get through a little cone anymore,” he said. “It’s kind of sad. Sometimes Jamal will say, ‘Try this new thing,’ and I have to say, ‘I can’t.’”
Fortunately, others can. As sleet turned to snow, Shawna Colon, of Dearborn, parked at the curb and zipped in wearing a parka with a fur-trimmed hood.
She was taking a Reese’s parfait home to her husband, but the vanilla cone with pink accoutrements in her hand figured to be gone by the time she arrived.
“I just love it,” she said, and we’re hardy Michiganders. Why worry about a little snow in your sprinkles?
TCC at the LCA
The tie-in with the arena began with a TikTok video that caught the eye of someone posting for the Detroit Pistons.
"Why didn't we get invited to the party?” the Pistons commented, and in short order, Jawad was supplying teal-colored custard for the announcement that the team was bringing back teal jerseys.
The Custard Company wound up applying to the Pistons’ Shop313 program, a team spokesman said, designed to help independent businesses leverage the clout and reach of an NBA franchise.
The team made an introduction to LCA concessionaire Delaware North, and through March, Jawad and associates will be slinging custard in what's known as the District Detroit area on the main floor.
Jawad said he's been told that no one else has offered flurries in a major sports arena. There were some hitches in delivery the first night, he said, but he has largely engineered them from the process, putting rumps more rapidly back in seats.
Sales have been strong, exposure has been robust, and indoors, they don't need to worry about wayward cars.
It probably can't hurt, though, to keep an eye out for the Zamboni.
Reach Neal Rubin at NARubin@freepress.com, or on Twitter via @nealrubin_fp. No one wants to see him dance, so don't bother looking on TikTok.
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This article originally appeared on Detroit Free Press: The scoop on a Dearborn custard shop: It’s great, but look both ways
