Queen R.
Yelp
Listen. I came here for a scoop of ice cream, not a full-blown existential crisis. I thought I'd be in and out in five minutes. Instead, I sampled what felt like half the menu and aged approximately three years trying to make a decision. Every flavor was rich, poignant, delicious, and somehow emotionally complex -- like each scoop had a backstory and a moral lesson.
At one point, I was holding a tiny spoon, staring into space, questioning my entire personality. "Am I a spice person today ? Or an almond croissant chaos gremlin?" The staff was patient -- almost too patient -- like they'd seen this kind of meltdown before. They probably keep tissues behind the counter for people who realize too late that the pistachio is, in fact, transcendent.
Eventually, I committed. I won't tell you which flavor because I want you to suffer the same beautiful indecision I did... it was the olive oil cake and the almond croissant...
But when I finally sat down, took my first bite, and let it melt into a slow-motion montage of joy and regret -- I knew. This wasn't ice cream. This was therapy in dairy form.
Was it expensive? Sure. But so is enlightenment.