Oak Park's Sweet Dream Melts Away: Why Local Ice Cream Shop Licked Is Closing

There’s a particular kind of heartbreak that comes with watching a neighborhood dream close its doors just as summer hits its stride. Licked, the ice cream shop that owner Susan Stewart envisioned as her love letter to Oak Park, will serve its last cone on Friday, July 31 after just over two years in business.

Stewart’s vision was simple and genuine—she wanted families strolling Broadway and 34th Street with ice cream cones in hand, savoring Sacramento summers in their own backyard. As someone who’s worked in Oak Park for years and runs the Strapping gift store across the street, she understood the neighborhood’s rhythms and believed it deserved a gathering spot of its own. The problem? Running a passion project and a business turned out to be two entirely different things.

The math doesn’t work when you’re scooping $4 ice cream cones but facing high rent, thin foot traffic, and unexpected competition. Stewart was candid about the reality: we never really got off the ground. She acknowledged the elephant in the room—proximity to Gunther’s, the legendary Sacramento ice cream institution that commands fierce neighborhood loyalty. Sometimes, no matter how much heart you pour into something, you’re playing a game with impossible odds stacked against you.

What’s striking here isn’t just another small business closure—it’s the broader story playing out across Sacramento’s neighborhood districts. The Oak Park community, through business owners like Joel Molina of Twelves Wax and florist Hannah Emery at Botanic, clearly mourned the loss. They get it. They’re fighting the same battle: mounting costs, shifting foot traffic patterns, and the brutal reality that passion doesn’t pay the utilities. Yet their message to the community was consistent and unapologetic—shop local when you can, because without you, these places don’t survive.

Stewart plans to focus her energy on Strapping and holds genuine hope that someone with equal commitment will take over the space. But the timing stings. Just when the heat drives people outdoors, this small joy is closing. It’s a reminder that a neighborhood’s character isn’t just made by the buildings that stand—it’s sustained by the people willing to take risks on them. And sometimes, even the best intentions aren’t enough.