We have this thing called a Bucket List, a list of things we want to do before we have to transfer out of our amazing city. This is the tale of our first item on the list.
So, there's this place in New Orleans called the Creole Creamery. It's kind of a big deal. All their ice cream is made right there at the shoppe (extra "p" and "e" cuz we're fancy like that) and the flavors they have are just incredible. They have all the basics like chocolate, vanilla and all variety of berries, but it's the unique ones that I like. I'm talking about the Salty, Smokey Chocolate Almond and A Chockwork Orange. Yeeeeeeah...that's the stuff... We try not to make it too much of a habit going there, but when we do one thing on the menu always catches our eye: The Tchoupitoulas Challenge.
Tchoupitoulas is a well-known street in the city and a challenge is what I live for, so it sounded great. What it is is a big bowl filled with eight scoops of ice cream, eight toppings, sprinkles, cherries, whipped cream, hot fudge and waffers. A trully terrifying concocction to be sure.
For a while now, we've been plotting our attempt. Completing the challenge earns you your name up on the wall and bragging rights for life. Being competitive folk by nature, this appeals to both Jenn and I. Jenn wanted to make our attempt before she gave birth so she could have the added benefit of technically being two people. Can't argue with that logic.
For my flavors I chose Cookie Monster, Mexican Hot Chocolate, Peanut Butter Fudge Pie, I Scream Fudge, getting two scoops of each. For my toppings: peanut butter, peanuts, double bananas, Oreos, double M&Ms and chocolate syrup. ^ Don't it look gooooooood?! ^
For most of us men, there's a moment at the beginning of any competition where we devolve to our knuckle-dragging ancestory. We start grunting and using "D" words like "Destroy" "Decimate" "Devastate" ... "Dysentery?" It was with this mindset that I took my silver shovel to the mountain in front of me.
About ten minutes later I regretted my enthusiasm. My pace slowed and I had my first thought of quitting. I started remembering all the videos I'd seen of people attempting to drink a gallon of milk and wondered if this was somehow equivalent. We'd been warned before we started that roughly 70% of people who attempted the challenge got sick before finishing. I started thinking about what throwing up ice cream would feel like. Would it be cold still or would it be more like curdled milk? I didn't want to find out.
They say that perseverance is the hallmark of a champion, so with an ever-expanding waistline and an imagination full of technicolor vomit, I shoveled on.
Winning is achieved when a person can finish the whole bowl, toppings and everything, without being sick and holding the bowl above his/her head. I'm proud to stand here before you and say that I, Steve Lehmann, am a champion.
Jenn, despite her strategizing, wasn't successful, but in her defense, it was a very daunting task.
To be honest, I was expecting more. I dunno...maybe applause or a crown or something. Instead, I had to spell out my name so they would get it right when they put it up on the wall and then had to dodge traffic as we lumbered back to our car, parked a block and a half away. Not the smartest preplanning.
If you're planning on coming down to visit before we take off for wherever the Coast Guard sends me, don't think for one minute that we're going to go to the Creole Creamery. We've had our fill. Blame yourself for not getting here sooner. Or better yet, blame the Creole Creamery for killing off any idea of repeat business.
Ugh...I need a salad...
