Updated August 14, 2023 at 10:40 AM ET

When Jamal Jawad bought a low slung cinderblock building on a busy intersection in Dearborn, Mich., he never thought the location would be a problem. His dad owned a gas station across the street for years.

A former diner built in the 1940s, it seemed perfect for his dream: slinging soft serve. Jawad painted the building a cheerful pink and hung a sign: The Custard Company. But the timing was terrible. The doors opened in summer 2019, less than a year before the pandemic. And that wasn't even the worst thing that happened.

"We had not one, but two cars crash into the building," Jawad recalled ruefully. "Somebody ran the red light over here on Monroe and Outer Drive, T-boned another car. And the other car went straight towards us."

Fortunately, a huge steel bench was standing between the car and the customers. The car slammed into the bench and no one got injured. Then only a few months later, another car hit Jawad's custard shop. It was winter and icy. A driver lost control and skidded right into the building.

"The poor police called me and said, 'Hey Jamal, come over here. There's a car that ran into your building." He pauses for emphasis. "Again."

These days, Jawad can laugh. About 1,000 people show up at the building for frozen custard on a typical summer day. Gary Dean, snappy in a straw fedora, is relaxing on the patio with a cone. "Mine is black cherry custard. Delicious!" he says.

The Custard Company has made its own good luck. It's developed an enthusiastic following on social media around the world. Jawad, who trained as a software engineer, still works full-time at Ford Motor Company. His main innovation is especially Instagram-friendly and involves injecting soft serve cones with fillings. One is based on a Lebanese dessert called ashta. It's popular with Dearborn's large Arab community.

"The flavoring is rose water and orange blossom water," Jawad explains. "I mix it with vanilla custard, inject it with a pistachio sauce that's imported from Turkey and roll it in fresh pistachios."

His concoctions are so popular, the Detroit Pistons asked The Custard Company to sell soft serve at its arena. Jawad has now opened two more stores, rebranding his operation as JJ's Custard. (Neither of the two new stores have been hit by speeding vehicles so far.) And he is collaborating with other local food entrepreneurs. ReShawn Wilder runs a Detroit cheesecake company and appeared as a contestant on FOX's MasterChef. Standing in Jawad's West Dearborn location, the two are brainstorming a new treat, possibly for Thanksgiving.

"It's gonna be called Sweet Potato Pie," Wilder explains. Imagine, he says, sweet potato frozen custard, in a graham cracker cone and injected with marshmallow filling. "Oh my God. It's gonna be so fire."

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Transcript

STEVE INSKEEP, HOST:

Our next story takes us to a frozen custard shop near Detroit. And it's a sweet story. NPR's Neda Ulaby reports.

NEDA ULABY, BYLINE: When Jamal Jawad bought this cinderblock building on a busy intersection in Dearborn, he never thought the location would be a problem. His dad owned a gas station across the street for years. Jawad painted the building pink and started slinging soft serve right before the pandemic. That was not even the worst thing that happened.

JAMAL JAWAD: We had not one, but two cars crashed into the building. Somebody ran the red light over here on Monroe and Outer Drive, T-boned another car, and the other car went straight towards us.

ULABY: Straight towards a bunch of customers. Fortunately, a bench was in the way.

JAWAD: The bench was a huge, steel bench. It was probably, like, 400-pound bench, protected everyone. Luckily, nobody was injured in that accident.

ULABY: That winter, another car skidded on the ice and hit Jawad's custard shop.

JAWAD: Detroit police called me and said, hey, Jamal, come over here. There's a car that ran into your building again.

ULABY: His building had not previously been cursed. In the 1940s, it was a diner, then a pizzeria.

GARY DEAN: I haven't had custard in a long time.

ULABY: Hopefully, the bad luck is over. This summer, on a typical day, about a thousand people show up for custard.

DEAN: I can't even remember the last time.

ULABY: Gary Dean (ph), in a snappy straw fedora, enjoys a cone with his fiancee. She's having caramel truffle.

DEAN: Mine is a black cherry custard. Delicious.

ULABY: The Custard Company is making its own luck now. It's developed an enthusiastic Instagram following, especially in Dearborn's Arab community.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "YA TABTAB")

NANCY AJRAM: (Singing in Arabic).

ULABY: On social media, Jawad, who also still works as a software engineer at Ford, shows off his main innovation - cones injected with fillings. One is based on a Lebanese dessert called ashta.

JAWAD: The flavoring is rose water and orange blossom water. And I mix it with vanilla custard, inject it with a pistachio sauce that's imported from Turkey and roll it in fresh pistachios.

ULABY: His ice cream is so popular, the Detroit Pistons asked him to sell custard at its arena. Jamal Jawad has opened two more stores. Neither has been hit by speeding vehicles so far. And Jawad has rebranded as JJ's Custard. Right now he's brainstorming a new treat with a friend for Thanksgiving.

RESHAWN WILDER: It's going to be called Sweet Potato Pie. (Laughter).

ULABY: ReShawn Wilder runs a Detroit cheesecake company. The two are imagining sweet potato custard in a graham cracker cone injected with marshmallow filling.

WILDER: Oh, my gosh. That's going to be so good, man. That's going to be so fire.

ULABY: Neda Ulaby, NPR News.

WILDER: I can't wait.

(SOUNDBITE OF KASIMIR'S "MY BIKE") Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.

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