“Yea. That’s it.”
Such completed my transaction of the new Frosty Waffle Cone. Anticlimactic, brief, and disheartening, the short exchange with the Wendy’s guy as I looked upon this ...
“Yea. That’s it.”
Such completed my transaction of the new Frosty Waffle Cone. Anticlimactic, brief, and disheartening, the short exchange with the Wendy’s guy as I looked upon this innovation of fast food desserts — this long-hoped for, anxiously awaited breakthrough in hot-as-balls spring day relief — was matched only in brevity by the experience of eating the dissolving agglomeration of chocolate, cream, and God knows what else.
Yes, like Frosty the Snowman in the Greenhouse, the new Frosty Waffle Cones don’t last long. But unlike Frosty resurrected by the magic of Christmas, a melted Waffle Cone doesn’t freeze back up into a sweet confection.
You’ll have to excuse my somber tone. I do take my frozen desserts rather seriously, especially when it comes to the frozen dairy in a cone department. Having once perfected the seven loops of a Rita’s Large Frozen Custard Waffle Cone during a summer job, I feel a certain affinity towards sweet and creamy chocolate served with a crispy handle. Combine this affinity with a lifelong fixation upon the chemical properties of the not-quite-milkshake Frosty, and the revelation that the iconic frozen treat was getting the Waffle Cone treatment should have had every capacity to complete my life.
Yes, my life.
So you’ll imagine my dumfounded indignation upon seeing the liquidy puddle of chocolate Frosty barely reaching out of the Waffle Cone. While I pride myself in having advanced my use of imagery as a writer since my kindergarten days, the cone did, in fact, bare a strikingly resemblance to a diarrhea laden dump.
Clearly, there is no truth in advertising anymore, and while I’d love to say that I was able to overcome this construction shortcoming, the fact is that I wasn’t four or five steps out the door before the Frosty concoction began to melt. Instead of licking the Frosty as you’d lick the soft serve ice cream in a traditional cone, you’re really forced to slurp the Frosty more than anything else. It’s a completely acceptable means of ingestion when you’ve got the benefit of a cup and a straw, but as the puddle of Frosty spills out onto your hands from the cone, you might find yourself wishing you had brought a bib.
The taste of the Frosty isn’t bad. Obviously it tastes like a Chocolate Frosty, what with its sweet and not too intense cocoa flavor, but it strikes me as not having the standard consistency of the Frosty. It’s as if the particles of cream and sugar and mono and diglycerides are in active rebellion, and by melting so quickly proclaim a chorus of ‘hey, what the hell is this cone thing we’re floating in?’
As for that cone thing, take it from a seasoned waffle cone aficionado. There’s something off about it. A good waffle cone is malty with a slight give. You should be able to taste a batter component in there beneath that first crunch, and it should be sturdy enough to provide a thick crunch. This cone was more crispy than anything, with a bland sweetness that came off as cheap.
If you’re looking to suffer disillusionment in the arms of a fast food classic, or perhaps if you just want to get sticky stains on your steering wheel and endanger the lives of motorists after a cruise through the drive-through, then yes, I highly recommend Wendy’s new Frosty Cone. However, the next time I wish to beat the heat on a hot day, I think I’ll just stick to the traditional Frosty in a cup. It’s classic and delicious, and what’s more, its construction doesn’t remind me on diarrhea.
(Nutrition Facts – 1 Chocolate Frosty Waffle Cone – 300 calories, 6 grams of fat, 3.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 20 milligrams of cholesterol, 160 milligrams of sodium, 54 grams of total carbohydrates, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 35 grams of sugar, 7 grams of protein, and 20% calcium.)
Item: Wendy’s Original Chocolate Frosty Waffle Cone
Purchased Price: $1.69
Size: 1 cone (feels smaller than a Value Frosty)