We didn't set out to start an ice cream company. We set out to make great ice cream for our neighbors and friends — the kind that tastes like the ice cream you remember from a summer that may or may not have actually existed. That batch turned into another, and another, and eventually into a counter, then a shop, then two shops, then a boxes shipping out across the country.
What stayed the same: every flavor we make is small-batch, hand-churned, and built on recipes that took us longer to perfect than we'd like to admit. Local cream. Real fruit. Slow process. No shortcuts — even the boring ones nobody would notice.
We're not the cheapest pint in the freezer. We're not trying to be. We take the long road on every step. If that sounds stubborn, it is. The details make the difference.
We named the company after Wynston: a fictional, well-dressed cow with strong opinions about cream and a soft spot for the underdog flavor. He shows up on the cup, the cone sleeve, the pints — anywhere a little personality is needed. He doesn't take himself too seriously. Neither do we.
Today Wynston's lives in two North County shops, in pints across the country, and on a lot of birthday tables in San Diego. We still answer the DMs. We still taste every flavor.