Awful Awfuls

The better half and I went out to have dinner today at the Newport Creamery, a Rhode Island institution. Think of it as Friendly's with good ice cream. You know you are in a restaurant of class when some of the menu items have the word "Improved!" right next to them, in bright bold type. It's exciting. It implies some kind of Newport Creamery test kitchen, where scientists eat the popcorn shrimp, and shake their heads and say "something's not right, something's missing. It could still be improved."

It occured to me in the Newport Creamery that we are probably the only nation ever to have deep fried cheese. And the better half and I actually came up with a sandwich concept, which you are free to franchise and earn a million dollars from:

• The StixBurger - Five deep-fried mozzarella sticks, smothered in ranch dressing, covered in bacon, and served on a kaiser roll with lettuce leaf and tomato.
• The StixBurger Lite - Same as above, except with skim mozzarella, reduced fat ranch dressing, and the bacon and cheese sticks are baked, not fried.
• The StixBurger Mex - Instead of cheese sticks, jalapeno poppers, smothered in cheddar, covered with sour cream and zesty chipotle dressing. Olé!
• The StixBurger Cordon Bleu - Bleu cheese dressing instead of ranch, and a thick slice of Canadian bacon. Served on a croissant.
• The BlixBurger - One of the cheese sticks contains ricin. Can you find it?

Of course, the real reason to go to the Newport Creamery is to have an Awful Awful. As the helpful slogan printed on every Awful Awful glass will tell you, "it's a drink". A milk shake, in fact. One reason for the slogan is that an Awful Awful has the consistency (but not flavor!) of freshly poured concrete, and it is not immediately obvious that you can suck it through a straw. I ordered a chocolate mint Awful Awful Junior, which came in a little glass and weighed six pounds. It even looked like freshly poured concrete, but the taste was heavenly.

The better half had a full-size strawberry chocolate chip Awful Awful, which resembled a giant tumbler of Pepto Bismol with ants at the bottom. She looked me right in the eye and drank the whole thing, ants shooting up through the straw. The better half is not a large woman; I still can't for the life of me figure out where that enormous tumbler of pink slurry all fit.