Until today, I hadn’t worked up the courage to publicly declare my love for Sweetery. I hesitated to write about it for so long because I was fearful I couldn’t do Sweetery the justice it truly deserved. But the time has come for me to confess how I feel, and the truth of the matter is that I’ve fallen hard for Sweetery.
Sweetery is like a jolly puppy who is constantly wagging its tail in support of everything you do. This puppy is always happy to see you and has a calming effect that makes you feel better about all of life’s hurdles. Dependable and reliable, you can count on it to soothe any anxiety you might have. Whenever I’m having a bad day at work, which is never, I can always depend on Sweetery to be waiting for me a few blocks away, calmly poised on the horizon, radiant in its bright blue glory.
It may be baffling that I waited until now to write about Sweetery since I feel so strongly about it. Perhaps surprisingly, it’s actually the food truck I frequent the most. I know this because my customer loyalty card says I’ve been ten times (I’m due for a free dessert, which fills me with so much excitement I can hardly sit still while typing this). However, after sampling a “competitor” my feelings can no longer be kept inside.
Because Sweetery only serves dessert and not a full meal, it is much cheaper than other food trucks. As a consumer I don’t feel nearly as guilty paying $1.50 for a cookie or a few dollars for a giant brownie as I do dropping ten dollars on a meat patty from a van. Another benefit of Sweetery selling only desserts is you don’t have to wait for the meal to be cooked, resulting in no line and an overall better consumer experience. Therefore you never feel rushed when ordering and can inquire about each and every dessert behind the glass encasement. This makes it much easier to go once a week because I don’t feel fretful about how long the line is and how likely it is that Outlook spontaneously combusted while I was out frolicking.
While I’ve sampled the Nutella filled croissants, the quiche, and the Snickerdoodles, the chocolate chip cookie is my absolute favorite. Each time this cookie does not fail me and is reliably outstanding and consistent. It’s never had an “off” day, as I’ve disappointingly experienced at certain pizzerias when they sneakily sell you a burnt slice. I can say similar things about the brownie. Not too dry, not too moist, and each bite jam-packed with rich chocolate flavor. Much like Rihanna, I might have found love in the hopeless place known as “real life.”
On the other hand, The Treats Truck is like Billy Cundiff, a swing and a miss far to the left of its target goal. It’s a far cry from runner-up, or even Honorable Mention in the mobile baked goods arena. In fact, The Treats Truck shouldn't even be in the same sentence as runner-up or Honorable Mention. After sampling both a chocolate chip cookie and a cupcake from The Treats Truck, I was not so much disappointed as I was irritated that I wasted my time and money on this poor substitute for Sweetery. The chocolate chip cookie was nothing special, especially after conditioning my taste buds to expect only the finest in baked goods from Sweetery. Not bad, but why waste your time on sub-par desserts? The cupcake, on the other hand, was actually a disgrace to baked goods and food trucks. Sure the icing looked fun in its whimsical swirl, but the cupcake was garbage. Had I known better, I would most definitely think this atrocity of a cupcake came from a grocery store due to the repulsive cardboard taste.
Grocery store cupcakes are at the absolute worst end of the cupcake spectrum. Dry, mass produced, and not made with one ounce of love or passion. After one bite I knew that cupcake wasn’t for me. I didn’t really want anymore, but after having shelled out the cash for it and being raised by a father who has no qualms about spooning every last bit of marinara sauce (or gravy as he affectionately calls it) off his plate, I felt compelled to finish what I’d started. With each bite I was seeking some sort of reward for my cupcake crusade, hoping against hope that it would taste better and the invisibility cloak would be lifted, revealing the dessert I so desperately wanted to consume. Unfortunately, this gratification never arrived. Consuming a cupcake from The Treats Truck was like being in a crumbling relationship. I kept telling myself things would get better, to just stick it out a bit longer. But they didn’t, and I was left feeling hollow and empty inside.
The Treats Truck is like that friend of a friend you get stuck talking to at a pregame. In theory, you have things in common (you both just graduated and hate your jobs and go to Fat Baby every weekend). However, once you cover these surface topics, you realize you can only say “LOL Lower East Side!” so many times as you desperately try to make eye contact with your actual friends across the room who you’d rather be talking to. Much like a young post-grad who likes Fat Baby is no substitute for your real friends, The Treats Truck is no substitute for the Henrik Lundqvist of dessert trucks: Sweetery. Stick with your real friends, stick with Sweetery.