If you’ve ever wondered how dedicated I am to this gig — if I’m just in it for the obscene salary, free back rubs, and ungodly number of loose women — then wonder no more. A guy who’s just phoning it in, when reviewing a triple-flavored tub of ice cream, will simply dig in a spoon at random and start going to town. A true professional will make certain he’s taking bites from each individual segment to ensure he’s getting an accurate flavor reading, pausing between each to “cleanse the palate” with some water. He will do this no matter how hoity-toity it may make him feel at the time or how many beers he must drink afterward to not feel like a snobbish food critic. Hypothetically.
But let’s face it: the world is changing. Things that delighted and enthralled older generations just can’t cut it with today’s consumers, and unless you spent last Saturday in the parlor smoking and listening to the phonograph, I’m sure you agree. By that token, Neapolitan ice cream was something to lose your shit over in the 1800s and quaintly pleasant in the late 20th century, but it’s just not cutting it in a new millennium. Recognizing this trend, Edy’s has acted to rectify it by introducing a new tri-flavor: Triple Cookie Fudge Sundae. Or possibly they just read my mind and realized I don’t like strawberry. Either way: woohoo! Note that this is part of Edy’s “Slow Churned” slightly healthier line of ice cream. There apparently is another version in the “Fun Flavors” line, but I haven’t seen it.
As you can tell from the picture and probably could have guessed otherwise, a circular container is not conducive to perfectly equal proportions between the flavors. That’s bad news if you’re a chocolate fiend, since it’s confined to a thin band sandwiched between the two vanilla-based varieties. On the plus side, the circular nature of the tub favors those who like to mix their flavors, allowing one to easily scoop a swath through all three. (Ice cream segregationists are out of luck… take your intolerance elsewhere, this is a progressive blog.) Again, I tried to sample each flavor individually for reviewing purposes, but if you’re just eating a bowl absentmindedly while watching TV, you’re going to have definite flavor mixing; whether that’s a plus or a minus obviously comes down to personal preference.
The first flavor listed is vanilla chocolate chip & cookie dough, which seems overly verbose: I think the vanilla part is implied, and do you really need that ampersand in there? Regardless, it’s pretty good ice cream, fairly creamy with a nice aftertaste. (In fact, the carton itself boasts of its “now creamier taste,” though since this is a new flavor, I assume they’re talking about the slow-churned line in general.) If I have a complaint, it’s that it doesn’t overload you with cookie dough chunks — they’re there, but not exploding out of every spoonful.
The middle variety is chocolate with fudge swirl, ironically perhaps the most boring flavor. That’s not easy to pull off when you’re sandwiched between two varieties of vanilla, which should tell you something. It’s perfectly fine chocolate ice cream, but the fudge swirl is tasty but inconsistent, and I usually like something with contrasting texture mixed into my ice cream, though your mileage may vary. For that reason, I wasn’t disappointed that this flavor accounts for the lowest total percentage of the tub.
For some reason the vanilla & brownies tastes a little creamier than the vanilla cookie dough, which is probably my imagination since I’m sure they were made from the same vanilla base. The brownie chunks are surprisingly gooey and taste slightly like dark chocolate. I don’t have any complaints about them except that there aren’t enough in there, even in comparison to the chocolate chip cookie dough, which as you’ll recall wasn’t exactly overwhelming me with its density either.
Taken as a whole, Edy’s Triple Cookie Fudge Sundae isn’t an unqualified success, but it’s certainly far from a failure. I enjoyed myself while eating it, and I definitely wouldn’t be averse to having some again. And since it’s slow churned, there’s a lot less fat and calories than regular ice cream, which is great. But at the same time, it lacks that real “pop” that makes the memory of it stick with you long after the container is finished. Maybe it was the stinginess of the mix-ins, or perhaps it was a bad idea to have two vanilla-based flavors… swapping one out with butter pecan, say, or making two of them chocolate-based could’ve been a way to go. Still, if you decide to pick up a carton, I think you will like it. You just might want to adjust your expectations going in for a good, not a great flavor.
(Nutrition Facts — 1/2 cup — 110 calories, 25 calories from fat, 2.5 grams of total fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 10 milligrams of cholesterol, 40 milligrams of sodium, 19 grams of total carbohydrates, 0 grams of dietary fiber, 13 grams of sugars, and 3 grams of protein)
Item: Edy’s Slow Churned Rich & Creamy Triple Cookie Fudge Sundae
Price: $3.39
Size: 1.5 quarts
Purchased at: Giant
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Kicks Neapolitan ice cream’s ass. Not that bad for you. Promotes integration. Name is fun to say. Creamy. Reviewers who go the extra distance.
Cons: Too much J.D., not enough Turk. Mix-ins not prevalent enough. Ice cream segregationists. Chocolate with fudge swirl should not be (but is) boring. Lacks that “wow” factor that separates stars from supporting ice cream.
My mother always seemed to buy neapolitan ice cream, it must have been on sale a lot. I think strawberry was all that was left in the carton for me when I was a kid. My older brother would carefully first scoop out all the chocolate, so there was never any of that left. Once the chocolate was demolished, he would start on the vanilla, if I’m remembering correctly. Everything is a little foggy since I was so traumatized by his food hog ways. He also was such a fast eater that he would be on his thirds before I finished my firsts, so I only got one shot at anything good. He even stole a slice of pizza off my plate once. He was in his late teens or early twenties at the time, so can’t blame it on extreme youth. (Parents: Don’t let one of your kids do this to another one. The trauma runs deep. I still can’t share a pizza without having all my slices safely on my plate and very well guarded, decades later. I feel safer eating alone.)
Anyway, I think it was the strawberry that was the only lonely strip left in the neapolitan carton. At least until Big Brother got hungry enough to eat that, too. But I did generally get some strawberry. If we had had this triple fudge concoction back then – well, I would have had to be content with a peanut butter sandwich. There would have been nothing left by the time I got to the freezer.
The tub I bought had all of four pieces of brownie in it. Otherwise tasty, but underdelivered!
“I enjoyed myself while eating it”
What about the Ice Cream?
*insert your own “slow churned” joke here*
The Old Fogey loves Ice Cream! and more specifically orig neo style chocolate, vanilla and strawberry, kinda like the wafer things!