Well. What do you think? Think it bears repeating?
OK, how's this?
Right. You get the picture.
But do you get the aroma?
They should call it Vanilla Waffle Warm. It has steamy little tendril-like fingers that waft up to your nose and pull you through the door.
I counted, oh I don't know--a gazillion deep? There are little heads in that crowd that you can't even see when you're in the store. And this was on a cold Utah winter's eve.
They're waiting for cherry chocolate chip, or moose tracks (with miniature peanut butter cups,) or some outlandishly chunky strawberry ice cream--if they can make up their minds, that is.
But what am I telling you for? If you live anywhere in the vicinity, you already know about Farr's--it's about like 80 years old or something.
You can buy allkynna sherbet, ice cream that looks like playdough, old fashioned Iron Port or retro Root Beer, creamy scoops dotted with little surprises and real teddy bears, too.
This place is mere steps from my front door, but that's all right because they have the best "no sugar added" vanilla ice cream and they pack it tough down into the little pint carton that I schlep home with, vowing to make it last longer than five minutes.
And I do. Because you know--a vow is a vow, after all.