Starting with Sprinkles

Monday was a big day for RKG. Furthering our quest for global search domination, we recruited a treasonous Google employee. After the accolades preceding his arrival, I expected him to approach the building in a limousine or on a white steed. Although he did not make a glorious entrance, we were treated to a free lunch at the Hibachi Grille Buffet in his honor. The company also had an ice cream social on the front lawn; if this is the only way in which his employment benefits the company, I will be satisfied. Not only did I get free Ben & Jerry's, I also had another idea for an inspiring innovation. (As with all enhancements, the aforementioned allocations of profits still apply.)

One of the most crucial and underrated aspects of nachos is accoutrement distribution. While bar nachos may have all the essentials (beef, cheese, sour cream, jalapenos, beans, salsa, guacamole), if you reach the bottom of the pile to find bare tortilla chips, the dish is a disappointment. Similarly, should the chips be soaked and soggy, one cannot be satisfied.

If we apply the lesson learned from nachos to sundaes, we can take our ice cream experience to new levels. It has come to my attention in recent weeks that not everyone is aware of the strategic approach required to assemble a sundae worthy of the dessert connoisseur's palette. Like any culinary art, though, there is a process that includes pairing toppings, calculating ratios, and placing ingredients appropriately. Just as coconut and peanut butter should not be blended in a bowl, too much brownie will overpower the flavor of cookie dough ice cream, robbing taste buds of potential pleasure.

As everyone should, at this point, recognize and appreciate the necessity of flavor throughout experience, I will now revolutionize indulgence.

Soft serve ice cream cones. Dipped in sprinkles. Dipped in nuts. Dipped in fudge. First lick. Delicious. Second lick. Delectable. Third lick. Mildly depressing. Why?

Because the pretty sprinkles that once adorned the outer edges are no more. Yes, the vanilla ice cream is still tasty, but licks 3 - 20 feel naked. Unfulfilling. Perhaps, you think, there would be a way to prolong the enjoyment of licks one and two, but apart from intense tongue maneuvering, it cannot be done. Even then, few tongues have the agility and strength, making such aspirations nearly impossible to attain. Until now.

I propose a very basic spout that shoots through the middle of soft serve machines. There will also be a compartment in which you pour the topping of choice, be it nuts, sprinkles, or any other yummy morsels your tummy craves. Ideally, there will be an alternate tube that holds fudge, caramel, and the like, but my mental schematics have yet to formulate that function. For now, know that not only will those sprinkles be distributed evenly, enabling you to lick at whatever angle you prefer, but they will not lose their consistency because they were added to the ice cream seconds before.

According to Google, product distribution is one of the four P's I was taught in marketing courses. As innovators, though, I believe we should focus on distribution within the products before we focus on distribution of the products. Starting with sprinkles.