Today’s review is coming to you hot off the press—I just got this sundae yesterday!
You might think I’m reviewing it so soon because it was so good and I needed to report to the masses as soon as possible. Not true.
Don’t worry! It was very tasty. But I have three or four other sundaes I need to review and their photos are on my camera, not my phone. It’s a very small hurdle—the SD card is currently attached to my computer. But I clearly don’t have the energy to click through the files, especially when today’s sundae’s pictures are readily available in my photo app.
And I’d like to hide behind a notion that I’ve been too busy to catch up on the old reviews. While this week was a doozy, I also bought a gaming PC and spent a solid five to six hours on that last night.
This sundae came off the heels of a moderately disappointing dinner. Some friends and I went to a place that touted shareable plates with a Middle Eastern flair. I don’t know about you, but when I hear “shareable plate” I think of a rather large portion. So imagine our surprise when we ordered the meatball plate to see four tiny meatballs. No bread, no rice, no nothing. Just little balls.
It’s a weird sensation, being hangry even after you’ve eaten. But I guess the anger wasn’t a product of hunger—it was a product of false advertising.
I always say “there’s always room for ice cream,” which is usually just a rallying cry for when my stomach is brimming. We did not need this encouragement—we were simply starving.
Lickity Split offers a nice variety of sundaes but doesn’t go overboard with crazy flavors. I went with the PB and Fudge. The aesthetic of the shop was very much a candy parlor you might see in the 1960s, kind of like the one Charlie Buckets goes to in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Speaking of, why don’t ice cream parlors dress their workers in white lab coats anymore? I’d feel better about indulging if I could pretend I was going to see my sweets doctor.
Quality of Fudge
At first I was worried they forgot to pour on any fudge! But they employed the moat method, so I had to scoop a little fudge with every bite. It’s quite effective for rationing out your fudge. And the fudge was lovely—warm, viscous, with just a hint of dark chocolate bitterness.
Quality of Toppings
The sundae gets its name from the little bit of warm peanut butter they drizzle along side the fudge. And then they topped it with some of those brownie bits you might see at a froyo place. At first I was worried. I immediately flashed back to that one review where I declared that I was sick of having brownies in a sundae (I can’t find the post but I swear it’s out there). And maybe that would hold true if it was a full-on brownie square. But little bite-sized brownies? I gobble those up.
Level of Comfort Ordering a Hot Fudge Sundae
Pretty smooth. The one hiccup is that I couldn’t find where it said how many custard flavors they offered. So when the cashier asked what flavor I wanted, I looked around in a panic—I didn’t know I had to choose! And then she informed me I could either get vanilla, chocolate, or their weekly flavor, butterscotch. For some reason I was very embarrassed that it looked like I spent such a long time deciding between three flavors.
Would I Rather Get a McDonald’s Hot Fudge Sundae?
I don’t think so! This was appropriately priced, a lovely portion, and a great follow-up to a mediocre food experience.
Final Score: 8.3/10
Hot for Fudge 