Today’s sundae spot is a bit unconventional in more ways than one. For starters, my Googling led me to believe the restaurant we would patronize was called “Dessert Dealer.” However, my friends and I actually went to Parlor Pizza Bar. Judging by its proudly displayed bags of Caputo type 00 flour and used cans of San Marzano tomatoes, they were proud of their pizza craft.
But we all know the pizza is not what beckoned me inside.
It turns out Dessert Dealer is a separate counter/menu at Parlor Pizza Bars across Chicago. Why can’t they just include these options on the “dessert” section of the menu? Maybe because of the visual difference between fine Italian cuisine and the dessert options.
This brings us to the second oddity. Instead of explaining with words (boring!), this picture should suffice:
Your eyes do not deceive. This is in fact, a taco.
“But Jack,” you might protest, “this isn’t a blog about Choco Tacos! This is an esteemed blog about hot fudge sundaes!” To that, I say, “Nuh-uh.”
First of all, Choco Tacos were discontinued in 2022, despite being genericized as the default name for all dessert tacos. These, for some reason, were called “Tacolatos.” Why the name change? Hard to say. Perhaps there’s a copyright on Choco Taco. Regardless, ‘tacolatos’ is a name that should remind all of us how great we used to have it. It’s like when Randy Pearson replaced Eric Forman on That ’70s Show. It’s different, and I hate it.
Second of all, what does it matter if it’s in a taco shell? Why should waffle bowls get away with it? Does the shape of the medium really constitute a complete change in dessert classification? Is the taco shell simply not a bottoming for this hot fudge sundae? If you have a problem with it, I would suggest addressing your internalized xenophobia.
Be better.
Quality of Toppings
A very chocolatey collection of toppings: Oreo cookies and chocolate chips. I think the Oreos were placed first, which left very little exposed whipped cream for the chocolate chips to cling onto. Thus, most of the chips were cast down to the metal tray below. The whipped cream was somewhat bland and blended with the vanilla ice cream below. The maraschino cherries were as fine as ever.
The taco shell was tasty but presented a unique challenge. After two bites of eating this like a normal taco, I switched to my fork. At this point I realized the shell acted as an impenetrable fortress protecting the sweet goodness within, my fork deflecting every which way. I had to become a proper savage, beating the shell senselessly until it gave in, finally yielding to my yearning for what was inside.
Quality of Fudge
I’m pretty sure this fudge was house-made. Unfortunately, I only know this because they burnt the fudge.
Not terribly, mind you, I didn’t notice it until one of my fellow patrons pointed it out. I probably would’ve noticed it sooner if any of the fudge actually made it onto this thing! As the picture shows, the fudge was drizzled over the top in a wave formation, meaning most of the fudge did not make it ontop of the sundae. But hey, bonus points for making your own fudge (or they might’ve heated up a pre-made solution beyond the recommended temperature, but I’m willing to give them the benefit of the doubt).
Level of Comfort Ordering a Hot Fudge Sundae
I was initially worried about this part because we were obviously entering a pizza parlor. Plus the music was blaring, making it hard to hear our waiter or even each other. But we made do, and the separate menu made it quite easy to narrow down my option.
Would I Rather Get a McDonald’s Hot Fudge Sundae?
Yep. The taco, though a unique touch, was simply too much work to get through. Also everything else was mediocre at best. You’d expect more from a counter that specializes in dessert tacos!!
Final Score: 4.1/10
Hot for Fudge 