Why was I at such a location in the first place? Another walking tour, of course– this one beginning in beautiful Riverdale, the Bronx and ending up in Yonkers (one of my favorite New York place names). I also like horsies and was excited to see harness racing for the first time. After dazedly making our way through the celestial lights and sounds of the electronic slot machines on the ground floor, we found the restaurant and dropped $24 per person for the prized buffet. We grabbed our plates and raided the numerous shiny steam trays containing such old-school delights as prime rib and chicken francaise.  Some of us moved quickly from dinner to dessert, some saved time and combined dinner (beef slice) and veggie-containing dessert (carrot cake slice) on one plate, and the shocking verdict is this: nothing was very good, some things were very bad. 

Observe:

The highlight of the dessert buffet was easily the Edy’s soft serve ice cream sundae station.  Being a cocky Dairy Queen alumna, I was sure I’d make a sundae of exquisite beauty– “You own this,” I chuckled to myself.  When I first pulled the soft serve handle, however, the ice cream took forever to emerge, and then when it did, it spewed forth with such speed, that it immediately filled my tiny bowl and went right over the edge.  So… ugly and… no room left for toppings!  I tried to fit in what little chocolate syrup that I could, but mine was a sad ice cream-laden creation.  My friends heeded my advice about the dastardly handle and made the necessary corrections for their sundaes.  One friend made a concoction that was all toppings; another hid a “cookie surprise” on the bottom of his bowl; another made two sundaes and proudly plowed through each one of them (to get his money’s worth, of course).  One more word: have you ever heard of pancake syrup as a sundae topping?  Neither have I.  And judging by the high level of pancake syrup left in its bin at the station, neither had most of the other patrons, either.

The rest of the desserts featured in the buffet– rugelach, cheesecake, and éclairs– were just horrendous.  If you look at the picture I have here, you might agree that everything “looked as if it had been dragged across the carpet, then thrown onto a platter,” as my friend mentioned.  To uphold my journalistic integrity, I actually tasted the rugelach (unspeakably awful) and the éclairs (which were oddly moist, as if they’d just been thawed out from the freezer). There were also some unidentifiable sugarless cake (?) slices that made me thank my stars I’m not diabetic. 

I’m sure you can’t wait to go now!

I also tried an iced nougat at Brasserie Georges in Lyon, just for scientific study.  It really wasn’t tough or chewy like you’d imagine a real frozen chunk of nougat would be, but rather had that nutty flavor and candied fruit, but with a decidedly ice creamy texture.  It was tasty and a nice antidote for a rich meal.  Our evening was punctuated with the waiters firing up an old-timey barrel organ to play Happy Birthday, which would be followed by a baked Alaska-type dessert garnished with a live sparkler being placed in front of a lucky birthday boy or girl.

The Knickerbockerglory is a parfait made from vanilla and strawberry ice cream, with strawberry topping and whipped cream.  The Praline Parfait is Neapolitan ice cream with chocolate sauce and hazelnuts.  Both are quite tall and force you to improve your posture greatly in order to consume them.  The Meringue Mess is vanilla ice cream floating in a butterscotch and freshly-cut banana soup, with a little crunchy meringue for texture.  These 3 were, of course, parfaits parfaits. 

At first, I scoffed at my mom’s Sticky Toffee Pudding order, as there were plenty more delightful sundaes to choose from, but she pointed out that an STP is good for my Scottish dessert research and also quite tasty, so I relented.  It wasn’t sticky, so much as sweet and decadent.  The cake was so moist, it sparkled like a mound of jewels.  An STP’s toffee is typically made from black treacle (molasses), Demerara sugar (unrefined and brownish), and cream.  Ours was quite warm, and the accompanying scoops of vanilla ice cream melted right into the toffee pool. 

We brought some vanilla and strawberry ice cream home for my grandfather, who will almost certainly eat it smothered in extra-thick double cream, which I think is illegal in the U.S.  My Grandpa is such a rebel. 

If you like your shakes thick, fatty, and unslurpable, this is the place for you.  Not looking for a cheek-ache, we decided not to even mess with straws.  Instead, we popped off their lids immediately and dug in with our spoons.  The Sourhop Hop Strawberry is a cute name, but there wasn’t anything sour about this wonderful shake– it just basically tasted like the best strawberry ice cream of my life.  I also enjoyed the D-Lechable Leche, but it wasn’t really dulce de leche-flavored– more like coffee and caramel-flavored, much to my bean-hating friend’s consternation.  The best of all was the Milky Way Malt, which had fudge, caramel, and candy chunks for texture– the concentrated bottom scrapings were so good, I went into one of my dessert trances.

Good work, good people of Good Stuff!

Next stop: Café Saint-Ex (posting soon)

A.C.K.C. is a total dessert cuterie (if you don’t know what a “cuterie” is, think of the chocolate shop in Chocolat).  They’ve got everything: display cases filled with fancy chocolates & baked goods, tables overflowing with chocolate bars & gifts, friendly dessert-istas, cheerful autumnal decorations, and… naughty mosaics depicting frolicking males.  A.C.K.C. is apparently the brainchild of a chocolatier, Rob Kingsbury, and an artist, Eric Nelson.  The chocolate and the art are for sale– great concept!

The “Divas” are a menu highlight; they can come in the form of blended ice cream and toppings, crowned with whipped cream, and served in gorgeous margarita glasses ($4.25 each).  We tried The Bette Davis: “milk chocolate infused with almond syrup, topped with toasted coconut flakes.”  It was light and tasty, but nothing much to write home about.  Next was the Marliyn Monroe: “a bold, white-chocolate base with a flip of crème de menthe finished with crumbled Oreo cookies.”  What a frothy, refreshing, minty delight.  And great texture from the cookie and white chocolate chunks.  Last of the Divas was the Rita Hayworth: “semi-sweet chocolate infused with clove, orange and caramel, drizzled with caramel sauce.”  This was the best of all.  The flavors all zinged together, with the orange hitting you first, then the chocolate, then the clove, of which there were whole buds, which sent spicy shivers down my spine.

Even though we were bursting with our stomachs’ discoveries of their inner Divas, we thought we must try some of their hand-made chocolate.  We picked the weirdest sounding one: “creamy brie with apricot dropped in toasted black sesame seeds.”  Well, I never thought I’d live to see the day that I’d have brie and chocolate in one bite, but there it was– that cheesy funk with that bitter chocolate.  I’m not sure how well the flavors married, and no one tasted the apricot, but it was worth it for the experience.

The last thing we tried was their smoked bacon chocolate bar: “rich milk chocolate couverture mixed with smoked Turkish paprika, dried apple, and caramelized bacon.”  I couldn’t detect a hint of bacon or paprika at all (maybe they forgot to add them?), but the chocolate itself was smooth, wonderful, and rich, and the apple chunks were a nice little surprise.

This was a perfect start to our dessert adventures!

Next stop: Good Stuff Eatery (post coming soon)

My first job at the grand-old age of 14 was at the DQ down the street from me.  Ah, the camaraderie and the 90s R&B music played all day long… ah, the numerous “mistakes” we were allowed to eat.  Now, I realize that DQ is no Payard Patisserie.  I get it.  What DQ represents for me is summer, a simpler time of life, and smooth, creamy soft serve.  Since there’s no DQ to be found in NYC (a Carvel conspiracy, perhaps?), I pounce on any DQ I find during a road trip or trip back home.  My favorite treat is the Pecan Cluster Blizzard, a wondrous mix of vanilla soft serve, pecans, butterscotch syrup, and chocolate dip hardened and blended into chunks.  The sweetness of the butterscotch, mixed with the texture and crunch of the nuts, finished with the chocolateyness of the dip are heaven itself for me.  Also on offer are old-school soda fountain drinks like the Chocolate Malted (favored by my dad) and the Boston Cooler (a mixture of Vernor’s Ginger Ale & vanilla soft serve).  When I moved to the East Coast, it took me a long time get used to the “pop = soda” thing because the word “soda” conjures for me visions of ice cream treats like a chocolate soda… mmmm…

I also must report a most interesting finding during a trip I took to Blairstown, NJ, recently.  Per my usual, since I was out of NYC, I was therefore looking for a DQ.  Well, I found something that turned out to be a former DQ converted into an establishment called the Blairstown Dairy.  They kept as much of the DQ stuff as possible, without being in danger of getting sued.  Since DQ has trademarked its signature swirl, all the signs had photoshopped the offending swirls out, and all the product names were slightly altered.  I got a Butterfinger “Blenderz” (aka Blizzard), and, although the flavor of the off-brand soft serve was a bit tasteless (did they forget the artificial vanilla flavor #8?), the guy put in a crapload of Butterfinger chunks– maybe even a whole bar’s worth– so I was appeased.  Let’s hear it for roadside mom and pop soft serve purveyors in small towns throughout our great land!

Lastly, as DQ’s greatest fan, I’d like you to steer clear of DQ’s cold and sterile corporate website with the completely horrific Oreo Cookie Jar Blizzard “Goodies” creatures currently featured on the home page.  They mean you no harm… really.  Just eat the frozen treats, shut up, and be happy.

You must check out Grom’s website to see the pic of a vaguely threatening cow welcoming you.  It’s also a total foodie wonderland of a site, as there are detailed descriptions of each flavor and ingredient, and gelato pairings for “him,” “her,” and “the other.” New York is so lucky that Italy has graced it with Grom– fantastico!