Whispers of Cinnabon with Miss Softee

Last week, I was craving something a little different after dinner, and as it was a nice evening weather-wise, I decided to take a little walk. To 44th and 6th I wandered, seeking Miss Softee, who was parked on the corner in her Mister Softee truck and offering some delectable specials.

While the various options (run & raisin, s'mores, cherry dream) all sounded tempting, I decided to go for the cinnamon bun concoction. I asked for it in a cup, so Miss Softee grabbed a small cup and created a perfect swirl of vanilla soft serve. Then she grabbed a ballpark-mustard squeeze bottle that turned out to be filled with vanilla frosting-- yes, the kind that you'd eat out of a can when you were young, not that that's something I'd ever do... uh... right-- and laced the soft serve with delicate ribbons of frosting. Then the whole concoction was topped off with a hearty dousing of cinnamon. Four dollars later, I was on my way.

Absolute delight

And good lord, that thing did taste exactly like a cinnamon bun. The ample cinnamon livened up the somewhat retiring vanilla flavor of the soft-serve, and the occasional bite of cinnamon-crusted frosting was just enough to keep the image of a Cinnabon right in the forefront of your mind. It's a messy treat-- you WILL end up with either melted ice cream or cinnamon dust all over you, so beware if you attempt this monstrosity while wearing a suit. But it is a delight, and it is quintessentially summer.

Miss Softee
Check her Twitter feed for locations and specials

The Big Gay Ice Cream Truck makes me smile

The other day, I headed home from drinks with LZ and JW, and I was in the mood for something tasty. I remembered from some Twitter prowling earlier that day that the Big Gay Ice Cream Truck was coming uptown to park on 42nd for the evening. So on my way back from Bryant Park, I stopped by.

Hi Doug!

After divulging that this was my first BGICT experience, Doug insisted that I have a Salty Pimp. All right then. A classic cake cone was topped with an artful swirl of soft serve, and then the magic began to happen. Doug grabbed a squeeze bottle of dulce de leche and painted the cone with stripes of the delicious goo, and then-- here's the money shot-- stabbed the tip of the bottle into the soft serve in several places, injecting the cone with the caramel like some sort of awesome, freakish twinkie. Then came a sprinkle of sea salt; then came a chocolate dip. Oh my.

The promise...

Here it is, a sleepy Salty Pimp.

The first bite: Oh my, indeed. There's chocolate (or mockolate, at least). There's crunchy salt. And then there's the the dulce de leche, which is both sweet and sort of salty. There's the creamy background of vanilla soft serve underlying it all. Oh mannnnn. It melted gooily into the dish, combining the flavors even more. I gobbled eagerly as I walked the humid streets home.

Damn, Doug. This stuff is awesome. Too bad the BGICT is usually parked at Union Square, but maybe that's for the best. If he were in my hood, I'd certainly have quite a Salty Pimp addiction, to say the least.

Big Gay Ice Cream Truck
Check Twitter for location updates

Mr. Softee, a celebratory treat

Last Friday wast the last day at my former job... starting today I'm moving on to a new and very different adventure. To celebrate my transition, I decided to treat myself to something sweet after dinner on Friday. So after reading about the new "Mr. Softee," on Midtown Lunch, I decided to make my treat a delightful Mr. Softee sundae.

I trekked through the wilds of Times Square to find the truck parked at 39th and Broadway, as promised. I used the special limited-time-only code (ahem, "Midtown Lunch") to grab myself a $4 strawberry sundae. Mr. Softee, a.k.a. "Billy Gunnz," was incredibly friendly and glad that I'd read about him on Midtown Lunch. He dispensed a large, perfect soft serve swirl and topped it generously with strawberry goo.

My hand is buried under the mountain of napkins

After paying my nominal fee, I took the giant, sloppy sundae and walked carefully but quickly to Bryant Park. The strawberry syrup sloshed everywhere, coating my fingers and oozing dangerously onto the paper towel and stack of napkins Billy had thoughtfully provided. I found an empty table on the West side of the park and commenced people watching and attacking the sundae. Mr. Softee-- the actual soft-serve, that is-- is a funny thing: the texture is less creamy soft-serve and more whipped marshmallow, almost. And it's not really all that cold. Not sure how they make that happen, but it really isn't that cold, which means it doesn't melt that much. That could be good or bad, depending on your perspective (probably best for little kids to reduce the likelihood they'll get the stuff all over their clothing). The strawberry sauce was surprisingly good-- not too fake-tasting, super sweet, and packed with chunks of real strawberries. The syrup definitely rescued the rather bland soft serve, providing for a satisfying treat.

It was really enjoyable, eating a sundae while sitting in Bryant Park in near-perfect weather, watching the late-Friday crowds pass by. Needless to say, the sundae was so huge I didn't come close to finishing it, packing as much in as I could before my stomach cried uncle. Once I was done, I did my best to mop up my sticky face and hands before waddling home. Ah, the joys of summer.

Mr. Softee, a.k.a. "Billy Gunnz"
Follow him on Twitter