A malt isn't a milkshake
This comes up at the counter more than any other question, usually from someone who's just moved to Utah or is driving through on vacation. So let's get it out of the way: a malt is not a milkshake with a fancy name. A malt — short for malted milk, and sometimes called a malted — contains malted milk powder, which is exactly what it sounds like: a powder made from malted barley, wheat flour, and evaporated milk, developed in the late 1800s as a nutritional supplement for infants and invalids. Somewhere along the line, somebody figured out that mixing it into ice cream made a drink with a nutty, toasty, faintly caramel flavor underneath the sweetness, and the American soda fountain was never the same.
A milkshake, by contrast, is just milk, ice cream, and flavoring. Both are good. But a malt is a different drink — slightly thicker, slightly less sweet, and with a flavor you can't quite identify the first time you try one. If you've ever had a chocolate malt and thought "huh, this tastes like something else," that's the malt powder. Once you know what you're tasting, you can't untaste it.
"Half the people who order a malt here have never had a real one. You can see it in their face on the first sip." — One of the Nielsens behind the counter
How we make them
Every malt and shake at The Malt Shop is spun to order in the same 1950s-era mixer Jolene Nielsen bought used in the spring of 1950. The mixer has been repaired seven times and refuses to die; the family has, on more than one occasion, priced out a modern replacement and decided the old one was better. It spins slower than a modern blender, which means the ice cream doesn't get over-aerated — the shake stays dense, thick enough that a straw stands upright for a minute or two before gravity does its thing. That's the test, if you're curious. Order one, stick a straw in it, and watch.
The base recipe hasn't changed since 1950: whole milk, hard ice cream from a Utah dairy, and either real malt powder (for a malt) or just the flavoring (for a shake). Syrups are the modern part — we use a mix of house-made fruit syrups and a commercial line, depending on the flavor. The chocolate is made with actual cocoa. The black raspberry is made with actual black raspberries. The marshmallow is made with actual marshmallows, which sounds obvious but is not universally true in this business.
The fifty-plus flavors
We don't keep a printed list of every flavor because the wall is the list, and the wall changes. But here's the current board, more or less, grouped roughly the way our regulars think about it:
The classics
Vanilla, chocolate, strawberry. If you order one of these, you're not being boring — you're ordering what the shop was built on, and the recipe is the one Jolene wrote down in 1950 and hung above the register. The chocolate is a real chocolate malt, not chocolate syrup stirred into vanilla. The strawberry uses fresh berries in season and frozen when they aren't, which is the only honest way to do it in central Utah.
Fruit flavors
Black raspberry, huckleberry, banana, pineapple, cherry, orange cream, peach (summer only), mango (summer only), blueberry, boysenberry. Black raspberry is the local legend — on the wall since 1974, never rotated off, and if you ask a stranger at the counter what to order, this is probably what they'll say. Huckleberry is a Utah thing and worth trying if you're from out of state; it's a wild berry, slightly tart, and it doesn't taste quite like any other fruit.
Nut and toasty flavors
Butter pecan, peanut butter, toasted almond, maple walnut, coconut. The butter pecan is made with real toasted pecans folded into the ice cream, not just pecan flavoring. The peanut butter is a local favorite — vanilla ice cream, creamy peanut butter, a sprinkle of salt on top if you ask for it. Maple walnut comes and goes; ask at the counter.
Sweet and dessert flavors
Marshmallow, cotton candy, cake batter, cookies-and-cream, brownie, chocolate chip cookie dough, s'mores (fall only), peppermint (winter only), eggnog (December only). The marshmallow is a house specialty — marshmallow cream spun into vanilla ice cream with a few mini marshmallows on top. The s'mores is a fall experiment that keeps threatening to become permanent.
The odd ones
Licorice, root beer, bubblegum, pickle (yes, pickle — it's a dare, and it's not as bad as you think), and a rotating "experiment of the month" flavor chosen by whoever is working the counter that month. Past experiments have included honey-lavender, churro, and a short-lived attempt at a funeral-potatoes shake that we do not speak of.
What to order on a first visit
If you've never had a real malt, order a chocolate malt. Not a shake — a malt, with malt powder. It's the benchmark, it's the one most people use to judge every other malt they'll ever have, and it's the one we've been making the longest. If the flavor is too intense for you on the first sip — and it might be — add a little milk or ask for a half-malt (half the powder), which we'll do without judgment.
If you've had real malts before and want to try something local, order the black raspberry. It's been on the wall for fifty years for a reason. If you're feeling adventurous, ask for a huckleberry; if you're feeling very adventurous, ask about the experiment of the month.
If you're ordering for a kid, the strawberry shake or the cake batter is the safest bet. If you're ordering for someone who "doesn't really like sweets," the coffee malt is the answer — it's a proper coffee flavor, not a candy one, and it converts people.
How to order a malt the way a local does
Locals order malts a certain way, and if you listen at the counter long enough you'll pick up the vocabulary. Here's the short version:
- "Extra thick" — less milk, more ice cream. Almost impossible to drink through a straw for the first two minutes; a spoon is the correct tool.
- "Half-malt" — half the malt powder. For people who find the flavor too intense.
- "Double malt" — double the powder. For people who find the flavor not intense enough. These people exist. They are respected.
- "No whip" — no whipped cream on top. Not common, but we do it.
- "In a to-go cup" — served in a paper cup with a lid instead of the traditional soda-fountain glass. Necessary if you're driving, recommended if you're walking back to campus.
- "Split it" — we'll bring you two glasses and a shaker, and you pour it yourself at the table. The classic way to share one.
A note on the wall
The malt wall — the shelving above the counter where the syrups, mixers, and hand-lettered flavor cards live — has been there since the mid-seventies. It's not decorative. It's the actual menu, and if a flavor is on the wall, we can make it. If a flavor isn't on the wall, we probably can't, but it never hurts to ask, and if you ask for something we don't have, we'll write it down on the "next experiment" board in the back. Some of the current board started that way.
If you order a flavor that isn't on the wall and we can make it, we will. If we can't, we'll tell you, and we'll suggest something close. That's the whole system. Come in and try it.