Fanci Freez - Give Me More Bacon and Less Permafrost
I love bacon. It makes everything better, especially bloody marys. That's why I had to try the bacon burger at Fanci Freez. It was advertised front and center, and once you put the whole bacon thing in my head, I'm compelled to make it happen. In fact, if they created a sandwich consisting only of bacon, tasso, and lardo between two buns greased with aged pork fat, that would become my new lunchtime favorite.
My Fanci Freez bacon burger was moderately sized, and it didn't have nearly enough bacon for my taste. But what did you expect me to say? It was tasty, however, and my ugly wife proclaimed the accompanying fries to be the best among all burgershacks. I bet they fry them in beef tallow, which everyone knows is second only to pork lard in its tastiness. That's just a guess, mind you. I've got a little food-fat tunnel vision going on now, so my judgement is seriously compromised.
Overall, the food is what you would expect from a burgershack that's been around since 1947: reasonably priced and tasty. But what we really must discuss is their concept of the milkshake. Rule #7 of Crandal's Burgershack Law states that milkshakes should be suckable within five minutes. Naturally, the milkshake shouldn't arrive with the consistency of water, but it shouldn't be permafrost either. This is where I have a beef with Fanci Freez. It would appear that their milkshake is nothing more than ice cream in a cup with a straw. The first time I encountered this concept I chalked it up to a lazy teenage employee with better things to do. However, subsequent experiences proved similar, leading me to confirm that Fanci Freez is indeed in violation of Rule #7. It is definitely not suckable within five minutes. In fact, unless it's 97° outside, it's not really suckable within twenty minutes. This leaves one with a dilemma: you either suck a hole through your tongue and maybe give yourself an aneurysm, or you try to wait patiently while the frozen tundra in your cup succumbs to global warming. Why does life have to be full of such difficult choices?
This leads us to Fanci Freez's self-professed claim to fame, the Boston Shake. In theory, the Boston Shake sounds great: take a milkshake and then put an ice cream sundae on top. This might work other places, but given the nature of their milkshake, isn't this just like putting ice cream on top of ice cream? That's not really a novel concept at all. In fact, at Delsa's they used to call that 'two scoops'.
Now, if you're wondering why I'm complaining about ice cream, the answer is that I'm not. Their ice cream is lovely; I'd like to be buried in it when I succumb to the pork-induced coronary trauma that awaits me. It's just that I'm trying to maintain that sacred line between milkshake and ice cream, because somebody has to.
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|Famous for:||Boston Shakes|
|Is it cheap?||Sure|
|Our rating:||4 pacemakers out of 5|