It’s almost holiday/low productivity at work/dealing with annoying parents time.
It’s that time when big band holiday music is played at Crate & Barrel and Banana Republic stores all across the nation to lend that over the top affluence. It’s also that time of year when I relish how bourbon tastes when there’s a chill in the air and that warm feeling in my tummy that follows.
Yet, what I love most about this time of year are the holiday variants of food products that are unleashed. Turkey gravy cough drops, anybody?
Lately I’ve been on a Burger King kick. Partly because BK seems to be one of the few fast foodie joints taking some chances, but, mostly, because BK is within walking distance from my mansion that houses an extensive blazer collection. Also, I can’t drive until my probation is over.
I’m not a big fan of milkshakes, unless it’s a McDonald’s strawberry milkshake. And when I say, “McDonald’s strawberry milkshake,” I mean the vintage version sans whipped cream, the maraschino cherry, and McCafe logo-branded cup. However, as I walked up the curved asphalt in the Burger King drive thru, I couldn’t I pass up what I saw on the backlit menu and in the pictures on the windows? A gingerbread cookie shake.
What came from Burger King’s decked out stainless steel kitchen looked very close to the oversized photos that hung in the window. It was light brown with creamy white swirls throughout the soft serve shake and dolloped with whipped cream and gingerbread cookie crumbles on top. I have no idea what that chemical dairy smell that soft serve exudes, but I’m a fan of it. It’s hard to describe, but when I smell it, I pop a gustation boner.
For a paltry $2.39 (entry fee for the small size) I was given the chance to mentally escape, at least temporarily, the heavy burdens of my ankle bracelet. I straightened my red wool tartan driver’s cap, pressed my button down blue shirt flat with my hands and sat in the booth with determination.
Will I finally tell my wife that I want a divorce because she needs to watch that awful Once Upon A Time show when all I want to do is play Borderlands 2? Will I stand up to the world and tell my probation officer to eat the streets today? Will this be the day my opinion of milkshakes change?
No on all three counts, but allow me to explain.
Great milkshakes have that Goldilocks-like range. Not too watery which makes it like melted ice cream, and not too thick which makes it so hard to suck through a straw that you might as well be performing fellatio. The milkshake I got was perfectly in between.
The gingerbread flavor was at the forefront and it was intense. It was buttery, rich and savory the way excellent gingerbread can be. The cookie bits on the top were a whimsical touch, but also served its purpose to emphasize the gingerbread flavor.
There were notes of musky cloves and cinnamon that played very well with the vanilla soft serve blended in the shake. I could taste hints of ginger, which was nice. I thought it was a possible non-alcoholic liquid holiday drink that could help me deal with the frayed nerves of my family.
As perverted as it sounds, this felt so good going down my throat. For a second I thought, “You know what? Life is going to be all right, buddy.” That neighbor who throws chicken bones on my lawn isn’t so bad; he’s just trying to help me fertilize the grass. And you know what else? When my mother says, “Jeff, you’re an idiot and a mistake, we never wanted you,” it’s her way of motivating me to become a better person.
I love you, Mom.
However, just as I was embracing the complexities of a good ginger cookie, the sweetness of the shake did donuts on my tongue and then monster trucked into some old rusty Pontiacs. My teeth began to hurt from how sweet it was. And Tiger Mom, I hate you! You’re always saying such hurtful things. Why didn’t you give me up for adoption to a Non-Chinese family with no Tiger Moms and unfeeling dads?
Happy Holidays, dammit!
Similar to a tidal wave crashing on shore or your gross uncle who lays a fart in the room, the sweetness takes over everything it can reach its proverbial hands on. Basically it’s as if my taste buds were placed in a sleeper hold and the sugar was shouting in their ears to tap out. “SUBMIT, bitch! Tap out! SUBMIT! You know you want to submit! You don’t have it in you! GIVE UP!”
Even though my experience was slightly ruined by the sweetness of the shake, I kept slurping because that gingerbread flavor was so damn good. However, I did not drink the whole shake because it was pretty decadent. But let me say Burger King’s Gingerbread Cookie Shake is worth a try just for the gingerbread flavor, even though you’ll probably find yourself submitting to the sugar high.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be submitting myself to my regular old brown liquors to get me through another Thank(less)giving.
(Nutrition Facts – small size – 490 calories, 15 grams of fat, 11 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 30 milligrams of cholesterol, 290 milligrams of sodium, 82 grams of carbohydrates, 70 grams of sugar, 8 grams of protein.)
Other Burger King Gingerbread Cookie Shake reviews:
Grub Grade
Man Reviews Food
On Second Scoop
Item: Burger King Gingerbread Cookie Shake
Purchased Price: $2.39
Size: Small
Purchased at: Burger King
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Gingerbread flavor is buttery and savory. Thickness of shake was perfect. Big band holiday music. Crate & Barrel. Musky clove and subtle cinnamon flavors. Gustation boner. Banana Republic. Gingerbread cookie crumbles on the top are a nice addition. Borderlands 2.
Cons: Too sweet. McCafe vs. the old shakes. Too damn sweet. Once Upon A Time. Really, it is so sweet. So sweet, my teeth hurt.
