I’m back with more content for the masses.
I’ve been living it up here in Orem, UT. I should clarify: by “living it up,” I mean “withering in the heat and only braving the outdoors when I eat out.” When I do go outside for non-food-related activities, it’s usually after 9:30 or 10 PM.
On one such occasion, some acquaintances and I took a stroll through downtown Provo to see what a Thursday night had to offer. On our excursion, we discovered the small concert of a local band (their name escapes me because they are unimportant to the story), a Latin dancing club, a kava bar, and, finally, the Churro Company.
“A store that only sells churros?” we exclaimed. We were delighted at the prospect—the last churro I ate was at Rio Tinto Stadium, which was incredibly tough on the outside and cold and stale on the inside.
We got the basic churros to test the product. Our conclusion? Immaculate fried dough. But I noticed another item on the menu: the Churro Sundae. Having had my fill of sugar for the day, we decided to return on a later date.
That date happened to be the following day.
If you can’t tell, this churro contains, not one, not two, but FOUR churros, completely separating the vanilla ice cream and other toppings from the dish it came with.
Clearly, I had a lot to get through. As I slogged through this beast of a dessert, I began to reflect on my other sundae excursions in the Provo/Orem area. Almost every sundae I’ve eaten here (including a couple yet to be reviewed), the serving size has been absolutely massive.
Why is this? Are Utahn sundaes a reflection of America’s swelling desire to indulge in every delight? Or, perhaps there’s a more simple answer: sundaes in Utah country are meant to be shared, most likely on a date.
Alas, I am an island of a man (read: chronically single), so no such indulgence has been shared. I’ll continue to look like a boy fattening his way through his twenties.
Quality of Toppings
Perhaps it was to offset the impending heart attack that so much fried dough and sugary dairy could cause, but the toppings were relatively healthy options. Strawberries, bananas, and whipped cream. The bananas almost disqualified this entry from the blog, since their presence often denote a banana split, but since they were sliced so small I figure I could let it slide.
Quality of Fudge
This was no fudge. But fortunately, it wasn’t chocolate sauce either. It was Nutella. This technically should also disqualify the sundae from mention on the blog, but at this point I figured it was time to write another blog post.
Level of Comfort Ordering a Hot Fudge Sundae
Just fine. However, their iPad cash register crashed as my order was going through. This lead me to stand in front of the register for about 10 minutes while the line of people began to elongate behind me, causing me to be “that guy.” I never want to be that guy.
Would I Rather get a McDonald’s Hot Fudge Sundae?
Probably. While the churros were delightfully warm at the start, it took so long to get through the sundae they got cold and somewhat soggy. All around, just a serious commitment to take on by yourself.
Final Score: 5.6/10
Hot for Fudge 