This Shop Is Where Hip-Hop and Ice Cream Collide

The Mikey Likes It ice cream parlour in New York can pull in customers even when conditions advise otherwise. On a recent Sunday afternoon, clouds still hover over the East Village after the morning's downpour, and the breeze carries the smell of shit gone sour that is emanating from the block. But Mikey Likes It—touted as the "world's first pop culture inspired premium ice cream brand"—is still the busiest business on the block. A constant and diverse stream of civilians march through the storefront doors to get at least one scoop of the neighbourhood's frozen gem. Over a dozen costumers spend some precious seconds perfecting Instagram and Snapchat shots of their ice cream, a sign of their momentary flourish.

Mikey Cole, the amicable 37-year-old owner, shuffles up the block toward his thriving parlour for our interview. He's already told his backstory—his journey from being a Rikers Island inmate to a business owner—multiple times and a wall is lined with magazine article clippings profiling him.

It doesn't make sense for Cole to simply retell his story instead of tending to the customers waiting to try flavours like the strawberry Pink Floyd and Mint Condition. So I tell him a 15 to 20-minute interview will do.

He's not relieved but gracious: "However long you need, my brother. You have my undivided attention," he says in a raspy sigh, his natural voice.

Before we get to the first question, Cole explains in a long run-on sentence that he hopes that being a black business owner sparks ambition in younger men and women. He speaks with DJ Khaledian inspirational heft, except instead of bluster and catchphrases, he proses with directness and realism. And how could he not be down to earth? Every time he leaves the shop, he gets a clear view of the towering brown project houses, his childhood home.

Calling vanilla "Ice, Ice Baby" instead of boring ass "vanilla" is a welcome hip-hop flourish. Cole is unmistakably a hip-hop head: While he's whipping up ice cream, he listens to Biggie, Capone-N-Noreaga, Styles P, and Jadakiss—the type of hip-hop brothers who go to sleep with a rosary and a durag on their dressers listen to. But relegating Mikey Likes It's relationship to hip-hop to just taste ignores what's special about the shop itself. The from-nothing-to-something story is at the core of hip-hop; Cole loves The Notorious B.I.G.'s "Sky's the Limit" because he, too, is a Horatio Alger tale.

"Hip-hop is a culture that teaches you how to make something out of nothing," Cole explains. "It raises our self-esteem to say, 'I am the best.' And once you start believing that, it comes true. [The flavours] could be a gimmick, but we're not taking away from hip-hop; we're giving it a boost."

After serving six months at Rikers Island for possession of marijuana with the intent to sell, Cole took his first crack at entrepreneurship with a sneaker shop called SoleFood, but the business folded after two years in 2010. The idea for artisanal ice cream came from his close relationship with his aunt Lucy, who taught him how to cook in elementary school. When she died following a bout with dementia, Cole found a box containing her recipes as he cleaned out her apartment. That's where he found the recipe for the triple bean vanilla that makes the Ice, Ice Baby and the base for all of Mikey Likes It's flavours.

On May 14, 2014, Mikey Likes It opened its doors for the first times under cloudy skies. The store's first customers were people looking for shelter from the rain; within the next two years, the likes of Future, Kehlani, and presidential candidate Hillary Clinton would be stopping by.

And that's one of Mikey Likes It's most impressive accomplishments: It took only two years for the store to use its hip-hop sensibilities to climb the artisanal ice cream game. Although Cole appreciates the celebrity visits and tastemaker co-signs, he maintains that props from the East Village community, costumers, and OGs of the hip-hop culture that propels his business are what he prides himself on. He collectively refers to them as "The People," the supportive equivalent of Khaled's antagonising "They."

Cole still gleams as he remembers getting a co-sign from one of The People's biggest champions: Jay Z. He was able to set up a meeting with him right before opening Mikey Likes It after meeting Hov's friend at Defy Ventures, an organisation that teaches ex-cons business skills. Cole met up with him in Midtown Manhattan to try to sell D'Usse de Leche, a spin off dulce de leche made with Jay Z's D'Usse cognac. Jay Z liked the flavour and agreed to carry it at his 40/40 Club's Flatiron location. Cole spent the hours after the meeting in ecstasy.

"I walked from Midtown all the way down [home in East Village]," Cole recalls. "I was so caught up in my happiness, I ended up walking to Astor Place. I forgot where I was going; I was on Cloud 9."

But on most days Jay Z is out doing Jay Z things while Cole serves his ice cream to the other 99 percent of The People. He's doing a pretty good job at satisfying them if the passersby stopping to greet him every ten minutes is an indicator. As Mikey Likes It thrives, Cole continues to operate by the famed hip-hop apparel FUBU's ethos: For Us By Us. This is a black-owned business that represents a black culture and the empowerment it gives. But Cole's aspirations don't exist without the grind that sustains them.

"If I don't give you great-tasting ice cream, I'm nothing but a regular guy in the neighbourhood," Cole says.