The Franklin Fountain
From the highest of highs in Philadelphia, Vodka soon reached the lowest of lows….
No city can infuriate me quite like Philadelphia can.
It’s just that, dear Philly, I expect so much more from you. You are the metropolis of both my childhood and my college years. I let you remain in my Top 5 of American Cities out of nostalgic affection, and then, just like that, you show me why I’m prepared to kick you by the wayside.
Frankly, Philly, if you weren’t the home of both my alma mater and my mother’s main culinary crush (Jose Garces), you and I might cease our acquaintanceship all together.
(Oh, and you can thank Marc Vetri for providing a great boost to your reputation in the form of his aforementioned tasting menu).
Floating on pure euphoria after the scrumptiousness of Vetri, I coerce my parents into venturing to Franklin Fountain for dessert. The first flaw in this plan is that, being Independence Day weekend, Philadelphia decides to start flinging fireworks up in the air a solid 48-hours before the holiday (and as someone who hates fireworks, this is highly unnecessary). Unfortunately, Franklin Fountain is located right in the thick of the patriotic insanity.
|Philly's Idea of a Good Time|
|Heed My Warning: STICK TO THE ICE CREAM|
|This Guy Looks Really Annoying After a 30 Minute Line|
HOW SHOULD I KNOW HOW TO MAKE A CHOCOLATE SODA?!
Do I look like I was a soda jerk in a past life?!
After a very articulate, “Um, I want the one that Marc Summers drank on Best Thing I Ever Ate,” (for which I receive a blank stare. New rule: the Food Network show that your establishment was featured on needs to be required viewing before you’re hired), he continues, “Do you want a scoop of chocolate ice cream in it? It can’t hurt, right?”
Hey, buddy, I don’t know how else to say this but…
…I WANT THE CHOCOLATE SODA THAT WAS ON BEST THING I EVER ATE.
Eventually, he hands over my two beverages, and I am prepared to judge the taste of Marc Summers versus the taste of Duff Goldman.
|I'd Rather Have a McFlurry|
Let’s begin with the Egyptian egg shake phosphate, which allegedly is made with an egg plus orange and rose flavoring. A date clings onto the straw for dear life, and the drink itself has the look of an creamsicle.
Oh, how I wish it were a creamsicle.
|Dates Don't Belong Wrapped in Bacon or Hanging Off of Straws|
Or let me rephrase: the club soda with a scoop of chocolate ice cream combusting in the middle.
|My, My, Doesn't That Look Scrumptious? NOT|
Amid bouts of nausea, I dump most of the drinks in the trash can, and my parents and I hightail it to the first available cab to take us far, far away from Franklin Fountain, Philadelphia, and the Worst Things I Ever Drank.
The Franklin Fountain’s Chocolate Soda & Egyptian Egg Shake Phosphate: 1 star