From the Bronx to the Outhouse: The True Story of the Häagen-Dazs Name
The premium ice cream brand Häagen-Dazs has a surprising origin. The name, meant to sound Danish as a tribute, was invented in the Bronx by a founder with no knowledge of the language. It's linguistically nonsensical, and by a hilarious coincidence, can be roughly translated to 'Garden Outhouse'.
A Taste of European Luxury... From the Bronx?
Picture a pint of Häagen-Dazs. The elegant font, the sophisticated packaging, and that vaguely Scandinavian name all work together to create an image of premium, old-world European craftsmanship. You might imagine it being churned in a quaint Danish village. The truth, however, is far more surprising and infinitely more American. The story of Häagen-Dazs begins not in Copenhagen, but in the Bronx, New York, with a Polish-Jewish immigrant named Reuben Mattus.
Mattus was in the ice cream business for decades, but by the 1950s, he grew tired of the industry's race to the bottom. Companies were cutting costs, pumping their products full of air, and using artificial flavorings. He envisioned something different: a dense, rich ice cream made only with the finest natural ingredients. In 1960, he launched his new brand, confident in his product but needing a name that conveyed its superior quality.
A Tribute Forged in Nonsense
Mattus wanted a name that sounded Danish. This wasn't a random choice; it was a personal tribute. His daughter, Doris, later explained the reasoning:
The only country which saved the Jews during World War II was Denmark, so I put a totally fictitious Danish name on the package to get attention for my new ice cream.
With this noble goal in mind, Reuben Mattus sat at his kitchen table and began uttering nonsensical words, searching for a combination that had the right ring to it. He landed on "Häagen-Dazs." It meant absolutely nothing. It was pure invention, crafted to sound exotic, distinguished, and, most importantly, Danish. To complete the illusion, early cartons even featured a map of Scandinavia.
Deconstructing the "Danish"
The irony is that for a name intended to sound Danish, it fails on almost every linguistic level. The Danish language doesn't use the umlaut (the two dots over the 'a'). That's more common in German or Swedish. Danish uses the letter 'æ' instead. Furthermore, the 'zs' digraph is not found in any Scandinavian language; it's more characteristic of Hungarian. Mattus, with no knowledge of the language he was trying to emulate, had simply grabbed letters and diacritical marks that looked vaguely foreign and smashed them together. And yet, the marketing was a resounding success. Consumers bought into the European luxury persona completely.
The "Garden Outhouse" Coincidence
Here is where the story takes a truly hilarious turn. While the name "Häagen-Dazs" is officially meaningless, internet sleuths and amateur linguists have pointed out a funny, coincidental interpretation. By mashing up a few different Germanic languages, you can arrive at a less-than-luxurious translation. The Danish word for garden is "have" (pronounced similarly to 'ha-gen'). And "das" is a German slang term for a toilet, derived from the phrase "das Klosett." String them together, and the prestigious name roughly, and humorously, translates to "Garden Outhouse."
It’s a perfect accident—a name created to evoke European elegance that coincidentally sounds like a place you'd rather not eat. It’s a testament to the power of branding, where perception is everything. Reuben Mattus set out to create an aura of quality and distinction, and through sheer marketing intuition, he built an empire on a foundation of delicious ice cream and beautifully crafted gibberish.