Surreal Creamery — Restaurant in New York

Ever since I was a young boy I begged my papa to take me to one of the local creameries. "Papa!" I would exclaim. "What?" He would reply after throwing an empty beer can at my head and brushing cigarette ashes off his stomach. "Can we go to the creamery today?" "No" my father would say, and then he would go into some drunken ramblings about how I was the reason mother died giving birth to me all those years ago. My childhood would never be so lucky to experience the joys of a proper creamery. My father died without having ever achieved his dreams of alcohol poisoning. He was hit by a bus, and I was sent to an orphanage. A local balloon salesman adopted me when I was still the youthful age of thirty five, his name was Samson and he loved me more than my father ever did. He used to rub my belly and make me balloon giraffes because they were my favorite animal. It was all a boy like me could ever ask for, I was happy, I was content, but most of all, I was no longer having beer cans thrown at me. Some might think that getting hit in the head with a beer can is how a father and son bond, but Samson taught me that true bonding grows when you make balloon animals together naked underneath the moonlight of a Colorado forest. Sadly, Samson became sick, he had eaten far too many balloons and now his stomach was filled with toxins which had slowly poisoned him. Doctors called it balloon brain, and it turned his brain into a grey jelly. As he lay in his bed, rotting away, I kissed his forehead and asked him that same question I asked my father all those years ago. "Papa, can we go to the creamery?" Instead of speaking, he coughed up blood, but I assumed that his answer was "Yes, we can go to the creamery." It was the answer I had been waiting for all my life, and now that I had it I knew what to do. I dragged my adopted dying father from his bed and threw him down the stairs, I followed quickly after with his billfold in my hand. I was not strong enough to carry dear papa so I wrangled some local junkyard dogs and strapped him to them. After acquiring a league of these dogs I placed a hotdog onto a string and tempted them with the delicious meats. I held onto my dear papa and we were off down the pavement. His flesh scraped against the rough concrete, his screams were all the proof I needed to know how excited he was to enjoy the creamery. Several people tried to stop us but when they did I simply let one of the dogs free and allowed them attack the good Samaritan. Nothing would stop me from getting the delicious cold cream. When we finally arrived at the creamery, my dear old father was nothing more than a few chunks of red paste. He was still alive, which meant he could still enjoy the ice cream. I let the dogs loose, I assume they attacked several children in the area. Then, with nothing but my father's money in my hand, I walked inside the store and braced for the deep cold that awaited me. It was warmer than I thought an ice cream shop would be, but I did not let that destroy the joy. I slapped about ten thousand dollars onto the counter, as I had no idea what the cost of ice cream was, and then I asked for one of every flavor. They gave them to me, stacked so high it nearly touched the ceiling. An entire armada of flavors just waiting to be licked. Lick them I did, mint, chocolate, strawberry, horseradish, all the delicious flavors that had been churned into existence by the hand of God itself. There was not going back, there would never be a day as sweet as this. I brought the remainder of my ice cream outside, and threw it into the mouth hole of my dying father figure. He gurgled the most beautiful gurgle and I knew he was happy. He passed away shortly after, and per his wishes I had him buried inside of a cube of wax. Samson died that day, but he was reborn as the best father I ever had. Although it took me thirty five long years to get it, I finally had a chance to enjoy the delicious ice cream I had waited for all my life. It was an experience I would never forget, because shortly thereafter I...

They have a large variety of ice creams and drinks on the menu. The main difference between the cake jar and the mason jar is that the cake jar had crumbled cake at the bottom of the jar. But it is all the way at the bottom and it fills about 1/4 of the jar space. Only get it if you like cake mainly. The normal mason jars are mainly ice cream with crumbled toppings in between mixed layers. The ice cream isn't overly sweet, but the drinks are definitely for this who eat with their eyes. For instance, I was expecting more of a flavor to the nom nom monster Cookie Mason jar ice cream but it was essentially colored vanilla ice cream. It was good nonetheless. They have mini and regular sizes for the mason cake hard. Get the regular only if you have that room for desert saved in your inventory. If you don't have room, trust and get the mini. The teas were all asthetically pleasing but I onky tried the Thai so far. It was good and they top it with whatever ice cream you want, but mainly it's coupled with the drink flavor. Staff was pleasant and doing their best to make drinks for the 25 people that were there on a Sunday night.

Parking outside is metered and hard to find because of the AMC theatre nearby.

For those saying no space to sit and chill, go outside it's always been like this. They make your drinks and then you go out the door to this thing called outside to drink or eat it. They don't wanna clean up the mess you leave behind, they are already working to...

I went to this location once before last night . I found it to be grossly overly sweet . I was told by a friend to give this place another try . So I went back last night to try Matcha in Heaven but I wasn’t served , WHY ??? Because it was 9:45 pm and they close at 10pm. I was waiting all of 10 minutes but the people in front of me were standing in line for upwards of 20 minutes on a very chilly NYC night . Owner / employee turned off the lights and told us the place is now closed . 15 minutes early ?!?! As the group before me expressed that they waited upwards of 20 minutes the employee replied with “ I doubt it “. I wasn’t so much upset for myself that lives 10 minutes away and can come back another day but rather the 3 people in front of me that drove from Delaware just to come give this establishment a try. Albeit I think it was ultimately for the best as this place is sub par to say the very least. With only 5 customers total in line you could’ve easily told the last person in line “your the last person being served anyone who comes after you , can you please let them know “ easy right ? Although I will say this I understand this can be a laborious job and you want to leave as near to closing time as possible , but you don’t need a business degree to be compassionate and understanding of your customers just a little bit of common sense . It’s safe to say I will never go to this...