Max Sockloff was an Orthodox Jewish chemist who would concoct ice cream recipes to delight his wife, Mina, and the extended family. After his death, his grandsons Bruce and Mark uncovered his ice cream journal, and since 1997 the brothers have been continuing his legacy of crafting ice cream concoctions. They have a repertoire of thousands of rotating flavors, from sweet treats like cardamom pistachio, salty peanut butter, or blackberry to savory weirdos such as lox, pickle, or horseradish.

When a streetcar ran down Metropolitan Ave in the early 20th century, soda fountains were commonplace across the US. Today, this 100-year-old corner gem is a rare vintage. The banana split or the hot fudge sundae are the kid-approved classics, with some 20 ice cream flavors and assorted toppings to choose from (p.s. get the homemade whipped cream). Some old-fashioned specialties like ice cream sodas and New York egg creams are favorites among an older crowd, who can’t find them anywhere else.

Despite the name, the Lemon Ice King of Corona boasts more than 30 flavors of Italian ice. Many even sport chunks of the fruit they were made from. This corner shop doesn’t offer tastes (unless you get lucky) and doesn’t mix flavors, but with the affordable price for a small, it’s hardly a budget-buster to try one of the more exotic flavors (peanut butter? rum raisin? licorice?), then follow it with a second, palate-cleansing cup of lemon. Refreshing and zingy, it’s in the name for a reason.

Vanilla, chocolate and strawberry are three of the “exotic” flavors typically on hand here. Just as at its more established sibling in Manhattan, the “regular” flavors include the triumvirate of green tea, red bean and ginger, as well as mysteriously herbal pandan, intense black sesame and don tot – that is, egg tart. And if you aren’t already fond of durian, theirs is a gentle introduction. Our favorite, however: almond cookie.

If you’re hitting the beach (or making use of a long JFK layover) for a day at the Rockaways, some three dozen ice cream flavors await your pleasure at Mara’s Ice Cream Parlor. American ice cream classics are up against other tried and true desserts-turned-flavors: s’mores or peanut butter pie, anyone? Even when the line stretches out the door, usually there’s room to sit in the shady, sand-filled backyard. (Rather not wait in line? Snag an Uzbek halva ice cream at Uma’s across the street.)

While the wieners are enticing, our stomachs are set on kkwabaegi (Kwah-bay-jee). The name describes traditional Korean twisted donuts, but thanks to an emphasis on deliciousness rather than good looks, “ugly” is easy to understand. We love the donut coated with injeolmi, sweetened toasted soybean flour. Simpler and slightly less messy donuts are coated only with sugar, or cinnamon sugar; all of them are handed over so fresh and hot that we are warned to let them cool before eating.

With its quaint, peeling sign and cheery strudel-filled front window, Homestead looks like a Disney vision of the Old World. In fact, German fare like the kind served here has become something of a relic in the contemporary American food scene. Though the shop was sold to Polish immigrant Teresa Wianecka, she still sells its signature cherry, apple and cheese strudels. She worked for nights on end learning from the German owners how to perfect the paper-thin dough for these delicious pastries.

This old-timey Woodhaven candy shop has been run by three generations of Schmidts. The latest, Margie, proudly tells us that “everything is made with these ten digits.” Dozens of varieties of handmade chocolates huddle on chocolate-smudged shelves. Our favorite, the peppermint patty, is deliciously fresh, a far cry from symmetrical, and oft-stale, machine-made versions. Margie is a one-woman-show who works 14 hours a day. Thankfully, she’s never too tired to hand out samples.

Gold N Honey’s loukoumades, Greek donut holes, draw on the recipes of both owners’ families back in Greece. Dense and chewy inside, each golden orb has a crisp shell that doesn’t go soft. They hold up not only to honey or syrup and cinnamon or sugar, but also to toppings like crushed pistachio, sliced strawberry, drizzled Nutella and a scoop of ice cream that can be added in any imaginable combination. The shop is located in the famously Greek Astoria (the “N” a nod to the nearby N train stop).

The brightly lit and narrow Middle Eastern dessert shop at the heart of Astoria’s “Little Egypt” neighborhood offers more than meets the eye. The baklava here is a tactile experience with the right amount of stickiness without being overly syrupy (unlike their honey-laden Greek cousins). Their plain baklava with walnuts was one of our favorites, as are the “cigar” rolls or the belly button baklava topped with pistachios, which are crisp and tightly wound.