All photos by Julian MasterHello VICE readers,My name is Nicholas Gazin and I am VICE's art editor, but I've also become VICE's frozen food critic. Each week I focus on a different type of frozen food and review several examples of that edible product.This week's column is a little different than the previous frozen food columns I've written because I fought tooth and nail to not have to do it."Go find a Mister Softee truck and review all the different flavors of ice cream," my pudgy, spoiled editor instructed me. "But Mister Softee only has two flavors of ice cream and they taste the same," I mumbled while cowering and deflecting the things he threw at me. "This is what I want! Do it!" the awful man said.
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Later, he insisted that Mister Softee trucks were as plentiful in Williamsburg as yellow cabs despite Doc, the man who runs the Mister Softee depot in Brooklyn, telling me that they don't have any trucks in north Brooklyn.My friend Logan told me that there was a Mister Softee truck he would patronize as a youth where asking for "double sprinkles" meant that the ice cream man would drop a dime bag into the bottom of the cone and then fill it up with ice cream. Occasionally, this same ice cream man would have Logan sell ice cream while he went to the back of the truck so he and his girlfriend could fuck. I know that might be a little bit of a digression, but I just thought it was neat.A photographer from VICE came to my house and we set out to seek a thing I knew wasn't there to write reviews of two ice cream flavors that both taste like sugar and milk. After wandering for hours, we just set up camp at the Best Ice Cream truck, not a Mister Softee, on Kent Avenue and North 7th in Williamsburg. And then I ate everything.
Cherry Merlin
Choco Merlin
Baby Raddle
Cookies Crash
Peanuts
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Double Choco Merlin
Double Cherry Merlin
Double Cherry Dip
Double Choco Dip
Chocolate Sprinkles
Rainbow Sprinkles
Banana Boat
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