Ghirardelli: Memory Does Not Serve

It’s time to come clean.

There are some people who follow my Instagram (shameless plug) who assume these reviews come from my recent weekend adventures. Like, I get the sundae on Saturday and review it the following Sunday.

That would require me to have the motivation to do anything after eating ice cream, which is not the case. Instead, I crammed a lot of sundae consumption into the summer/fall of 2023 and have coasted on the back of those experiences since I announced my return.

Now, most of the time this isn’t a problem. Most sundaes I eat are memorable for one reason or another—a unique topping (or lack-there-of in the case of Costco’s entry), interesting ice cream flavors, presentation. But there are plenty of times where I try to write the review weeks or months after the fact and can’t think of the details that stood out to me.

You might say, “Jack, why don’t you just write the review right after eating the sundae and keep it in your drafts until it’s time to post?” To that, I would say, “good point, but that would require advanced planning which I am too lazy to consider. Also, as I just said in this blog, that would require me to have the motivation to do anything after eating ice cream, which is not the case.”

To which you may retort, “but couldn’t you just takes notes on your phone about the things that stood out to you about the sundae?” To which I would reply, “please stop yelling at me.”

Anyway, the reason I’m on this tangent is because of today’s sundae: the Ghirardelli World Famous Hot Fudge Sundae. It’s certainly a bold name—world famous? Really? The chocolate brand that doesn’t have a store outside of the United States? You really think you’re going to outperform the likes of Milka with that attitude?

I digress.

So here I am, writing this review weeks after eating this sundae and I can honestly say there was nothing memorable about this experience. Maybe their other sundaes offered more of an adventure, but I went with the “world famous” one because I assumed this would be the best they had to offer. I hope that isn’t the case. Anyway, allow me to muster as much memory as possible.

Quality of Fudge

This was some pretty generic fudge. But if I were to choose a word to describe it, I may go with “pasty”? It wasn’t as rich as you might expect, and the temperature definitely cooled off by the time I got it in my hands.

Quality of Toppings

Hold on, a positive memory is coming back to me. I believe this is where the sundae shined. Not in the table-stakes whipped cream, nuts, and cherry. But in the Ghirardelli square you see wedged on top. My assumption is that this was going to be one of their solid, milk chocolate squares. Which are certainly tasty, but pretty boring. To my delight, it was a salted caramel square—one of their best.

Level of Comfort Ordering the Hot Fudge Sundae

There was an insanely long line, even on a cold December evening. But the weirdest part to me was their menu set up. They had these massive, cumbersome menus that put all of their offerings on a single, two-sided sheet, making it pretty hard to navigate. Even worse, I missed seeing the menus at the front of the line, so I had to be that guy who awkwardly squeezed past everyone while walking backwards in line just to get a menu.

Also, I have a gripe about the decor. I should mention that my friend pointed this out to me after the fact. For context, Ghirardelli’s Chicago location is in the Wrigley Building, a historical landmark with some wondrous exterior design. Their store has two levels. The first is a chocolate shop beckons entry with soft, golden lighting and a plethora of decadent chocolate treats. Then you go upstairs, where the vibe suddenly shifts into a fast food joint. Sticky tile floors, milk-aisle lighting, not nearly enough seating. It was chaos. You would think Ghirardelli would take more advantage of their aesthetic setting.

Would I Rather Get a McDonald’s Hoy Fudge Sundae?

Yep. While the flavors were there, the experience was just too much to handle. And not to mention the price—I swear this thing cost me like $17 after tax. I’ll take my $5 sundae from McD’s, where the fast food energy is at least expected.

Final Score: 6.7/10

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