This is a review based solely on their Frozen Hot Chocolate.
So talk about your oxymorons. How can something be both "hot" AND "frozen" at the same time? I wondered that when I was told I should order a Frozen Hot Chocolate here at Serendipity 3. And so after a big dinner outside the Strip, my dad and I decided to save dessert and satisfy my curiosity.
After managing to cut through hoards of tourists to even get here, we were immediately faced with yet another crowd, this time all in line just to get in. I didn't realize Serendipity was also a restaurant, and not surprisingly, being located right on the Strip, on a Friday night there were 10 parties ahead of us (which I found out through their handy website and text-notification system). What I didn't figure out right away was that there was also a to-go window, so that's where we went ahead and got our drinks.
My dad got the Strawberry, and I went ahead with my friend's recommendation. OMG; That's some rich chocolate.
I got what seemed to be about 16 ounces of chocolatey goodness. I loved every sip, but the flavor was so dense I had to take a break after each one. I can see how this drink can leave an impression on people, but I do believe there's a catch. After my dad tried a sip of mine, he made a good point. The Frozen Hot Chocolate was much like pure chocolate syrup. Maybe ice was blended in with the syrup, but that's what it essentially was. But as a chocoholic, why wouldn't I enjoy that?
Well, a quick and easy reason is the price. For two of those suckers, I think the bill came out to about $20. A more foodie rationale might also argue the signature drink's lack of subtlety. It's like feeding people who love ketchup an even denser ketchup, with nothing else to enjoy it with. What might be fun is if they gave you biscuit sticks to dip into it, or if they floated, layered, or marbled vanilla ice-cream with the already concentrated concoction. Something along those lines to break it up a little.
That's my take on the Frozen Hot Chocolate. As far as the Strawberry version goes, my dad thought it tasted like an overpriced McDonald's Strawberry Milkshake. I concur.