The BGICT is no different from your basic Mr. Softee ice cream truck in that it serves two soft-serve ice cream flavors (chocolate and vanilla) but BGICT serves its cones with the most unusual toppings: ground wasabi peas, cayenne pepper, olive oil and salt, to name a few.
I quickly subscribed to the guy’s Twitter page at http://twitter.com/biggayicecream to discover the truck’s daily location, but didn’t get to finally try it until a few days before the season ended.
I had their signature creation – The Choinkwich – chocolate ice cream sandwiched between two chocolate crackers and maple-caramelized bacon. It was an experience which made me wish I had enough time and stomach space to try the other specials but sadly the season ended, leaving its fans (usually found salivating in line outside his truck) aching for the summer when he opens his doors again.
I cannot wait.
Big Gay Ice Cream Choinkwich
If you’ve ever wanted to attend Mass at a Catholic Church naked and eating a hotdog on Good Friday, then the indulgent treat of your fantasies is now a slobbering reality. The Choinkwich not only pairs the delectable flavors of smoked pork fat with chocolate and cream, it is also served from a truck that colorfully advertises activities that already destroyed civilization even before you began to contemplate sacrilege during Lent.
The Choinkwich is a chocolate ice cream sandwich made with… love (of the equal kind). A crispy, caramelized strip of bacon is nestled between layers of chocolate cartwheel cookie and chocolate soft serve ice cream. If you’re lucky it is served to you by the very cute and charming innovator of everything Big Gay Ice Cream, Doug Quint, who is also happens to be professional bassoon player! Now if that isn’t all kinds of sinful and creamy, then just spit me out and dip me in Nutella, another staple Doug uses to line cones at this infamous food truck that also recently opened its first store in the East Village in Manhattan.
The popular treat craved by bacon-chocolate junkies is such a mysterious presence that it is a secret. It does not appear on any menus or specials posted each day. One searching for the mix of salt, smoke, meat, frozen milk and cocoa must learn to ask for it on the sly. And if one is so unfortunate as reach the front of the line after a thirty minute wait and end up with no Choinkwich, there is always the equally seductive mix of vanilla, dulce de leche, rock salt and chocolate dip, very aptly named for the images it conjures once it meets thy puckering gay lips: The Salty Pimp.