Diamond Ice Co.
DIAMOND ICE CO.
212-675-4115
No ice, please." This is what my mother says when a waiter fills her water glass. That's because she's European, and Europeans do not take ice in their drinks the way Americans do. My acquaintance who's a Russia scholar chuckles at the country people's quirk of drinking water lukewarm, and the only friend who understands why I keep my Brita outside of the refrigerator is Rita, who is Indian.
I set out on this line of thinking in preparation for a visit to Diamond Ice Co., one of the biggest ice vendors in New York City. I wondered if I would find out why Americans like their drinks cold, and when did we start requiring ice in them, anyway? On my way to interviewing distribution manager Les Hendler, a 20-plus year veteran of the ice business, I was excited by the idea of meeting an ice scholar who might have answers to questions I never before thought to ask.
Diamond Ice headquarters is just across the street from the Bronx Terminal Market, near Yankee Stadium. The company relocated a few years ago from a 6,000-square foot space on W. 16th St. to a warehouse twice that size. It's large enough to hold a fleet of delivery trucks, chambers that make 300-pound blocks of ice and a freezer bigger than most Manhattan supermarkets to store the bags of ice produced in Mamaroneck.
Hendler's office is a pre-fab loft that allows a bird's eye view of the facility. Seated behind a large desk, he appears casual in a soft blue button-down shirt and faded jeans. Hendler has broad shoulders, thinning hair and hawkish features. Although there are no ashtrays in sight, the room smells like old cigarette smoke.
"We're at the mercy of Mother Nature," says Hendler in a gravelly voice. Diamond Ice's main business takes place in the summer months between late May and Labor Day, and fluctuations in external factors-mainly the weather-are immediately reflected in sales. Sometimes it's good. The 2003 blackout brought a flurry of retail business-"We made out well. Police were here for protection and crowd control." And sometimes it's not. "On a rainy Saturday in July we will lose 90 percent of our sales," says Hendler. "This past summer was the worst summer I've seen in the ice business. Let me put it this way: I don't think we had one 90-degree day."
During a hot summer, the demand for ice is high. In addition to deliveries, Hendler has a significant walk-in business. He sells shaved ice vendors 50-pound blocks, and caters to a steady stream of customers buying for picnics and the beach.
"On a hot Saturday you can't come near this place. There's cars and vans every which way. What we did in a month [in retail] the first July we do in one day in July now. No one knew we were here. Now we have crowds."
Sales taper off in the winter months, but Hendler still manages to run a consistent business. Right now, Diamond Ice makes more than 100 deliveries a day, seven days a week, taking ice cubes to hotels, corporate cafeterias, caterers, delis, bodegas and private residents, as well as dry ice to hospitals, dermatologists and plastic surgeons.
"I'm always haggling with secretaries over dry ice that we're charging too much, and I say who are you kidding? You probably make $30,000 from a $50 block of ice and you're haggling over $2?"
Hendler was not the ice historian I had hoped for, but he did provide ample insights into today's ice trade. He expresses frustration over having to explain its value. "Some guy says to me, 'You're seriously charging me $8 for a bag of water?' Yeah, but the $30,000 truck that brings that water and the driver of the truck, that doesn't count."
To understand more about America's sense of entitlement to ice, I picked up Gavin Weightman's 2002 book The Frozen Water Trade. I learned that, pre-refrigeration, a vast, organized natural ice trade originated in early 19th-century America. New England businessman Frederic Tudor cut ice from frozen rivers and lakes, packed it in sawdust and shipped it to warm locales like India, the West Indies and the South. By the 1840s, lake and river ice was being delivered all over America. An 1880 "ice census" reported that New York City was by far the number one consumer of ice at 956,000 tons a year, and at 354,000 tons Brooklyn rivaled Boston and Philadelphia.
For many years, ice was harvested from the Hudson River until, in the early 20th century, it became too polluted. Ice was used in homes, hotels, dairies, butchers, hospitals and for floating in drinks. (The trend was introduced in Europe at the same time but didn't catch on.) New Yorkers were still consuming natural ice up until WWI. According to Weightman, once Americans developed a taste for ice, it never went out of style.
The erstwhile natural ice trade and Diamond Ice may be worlds apart-manufactured ice is what eventually put the natural ice trade out of business-but one thing remains the same. Both industries are at the mercy of the weather. The optimal conditions of the natural ice trade were a very cold winter for harvesting ice followed by a very hot summer in which to sell it. (When the Hudson River didn't freeze over in 1906, the New York Times reported an impending "ice famine"). Diamond Ice may not rely on Mother Nature to create its product, but they still rely on her for the demand.