Big Gay Ice Cream Isn't Flamboyant Enough

Big Gay Ice Cream Shop - West Village
61 Grove Street, New York, NY 10014

Disclaimer: this post is missing any scrap of political correctness yet intends to offend no one. Cheer up; we're talking about ice cream.


As frigid winds blow out of the city and make way for spring breezes, new fashions pop up, spirits lift, and food cravings emerge from hibernation. Winter is about hearty dishes--hot soups, heavy sauces, and wholesome carbs--but spring brings salads, fruits, and ice cream. 

I have been meaning to try Big Gay Ice Cream since last summer after hearing it mentioned in every ice cream article and word of mouth whisper. As soon as April hit and the temperature crept up to a palatable 50+ degrees, ice cream no longer seemed an absurd notion for an out-on-the-town dessert.

The little shop belongs in the West Village. With such overblown store fronts all over the area, my friend and I walked right past the giant unicorn on the window pane on our first attempt at locating the parlor.

At the risk of offending, well, everyone, I must say: Big Gay Ice Cream just didn't seem gay enough. I'm sure you could bash me from both sides on political correctness when I say this, but I was expecting Big Gay Ice Cream to glimmer with fairy dust glitter, stock colorful ice cream balls, or at least boast a heavily decorated interior. Sure, there was a unicorn on the window, and the ice cream names possessed a twang of gay humor. Nevertheless, the store did not meet my expectations of flamboyancy.

The ice cream didn't quite meet expectations, either. Admittedly, I had built this up in my mind, so when I was served nothing but vanilla soft serve with a few toppings, I felt let down. The ice cream was creamy and smooth--a well curated soft serve--and no one was stingy with the chocolate-coated toppings. However, at the end I just felt unsatisfied and sticky. (Insert gay joke here).

I'd like to go back, though. I probably just need to accept Big Gay Ice Cream for exactly what it is--good soft serve--and lick my way through the West Village this summer. 

Man's Best Friend Shops At Trader Joe's, Too

Grom's Whipped Cream Is Like Crack

Grom - West Village

233 Bleeker St., New York, NY 10014

While out with a friend, I ran into an acquaintance in the West Village. When he heard we were scoping out dessert options, he pointed to a well-lit shop on the corner. This man is a clean-cut southern gentleman and music composer, so his words surprised me:

"Order the whipped cream--it's like crack cocaine." (His words, not mine.)

Obviously, I did. 

Grom is a gelateria. Presumably their gelato is great, but on a mild winter eve I ordered a small hot [dark] chocolate with whipped cream. The cocoa is not for the faint of heart. My friend and her mom ordered a small, and between the two of them they did not make it halfway through the cup. It's not because it's bad--it's simply so rich. The viscous cocoa coats the sides of the cup and lingers on the plastic spoon. The whipped cream is just as pure. As though scraped off a spatula, the whipped cream hangs off the side of the cup. It didn't fall in or drip down--only the bottom slowly melted away, forming white rings in the black sea beneath. 

While I did manage to finish my cup, I feel that the optimal way to enjoy Grom's delights would be to have an espresso-sized hot cocoa with whipped cream and a single scoop of vanilla gelato. As I've learned, it's the best balancing act. 

So, next time I must try the gelato. 

Great Pizza Sauce on Short Benches

John's of Bleeker Street - West Village
278 Bleeker Street, New York, NY 10014

John's of Bleeker Street, a small pizza joint in the West Village, is an institution founded in 1929. Tonight was my first meal partaking in the tradition. The room is small and unpretentious. The dark wooden paneling and benches are stripped to the flesh from thousands of initials carved into the surface. The seats comfortably fit two, but only if you're prepared to sit on the edge of your tuchus for the evening. I sat down and I thought I might slide off the bench, which was at least 6 inches shorter than booth benches at other restaurants.

We received prompt service from a knowledgeable waiter. He did bring out the wrong pizza but realized his mistake immediately and served the correct pie soon afterward. It was half meatball and half ricotta. The former was too meaty for me but appeared to be prepared well. The ricotta was light and creamy, sitting in dollops across the pie. This was a well-prepared pizza. The crust was crisp but not crunchy; the sauce was present and fresh.

Skip the six slice small and just go for the large. For a $16, eight slice pizza, I highly recommend it.

Cash only.