Welcome to the first edition of Sliced, a one-item Miami food review where we focus on the extremes and give a grade between 0 to 1 or 9 to 10. Either the food is truly amazing and deserves a toast or it’s a travesty in need of a roast.

This is of the latter variety.

The place: Barton G. in Miami Beach

The item: The Chocolate Indulgence

My wife and I ate dinner on Lincoln Road last night and as we were walking by decided to give Barton G a chance for dessert. I’ve seen the Instagram photos showcasing their wild presentation and thought, “this could be a fun way to burn my tax return.”

Worst decision ever.

If we were to take a look at my all-time decision-making standings, this one would be wedged somewhere between the four Long Island Iced Teas sucked down on the night of my 21st birthday and the $100 I bet on the Dolphins to win the Super Bowl last preseason.

So we ordered the Chocolate Indulgence, which was described on the menu as, “Valrhona 66% double chocolate bittersweet brownie, walnuts, vanilla ice cream, ½ dollar gold coins, chocolate puffed rice clusters.”


The cost: $39

The dessert was served in a treasure chest with graham cracker sand and a shovel because South Beach. See, Barton G. jacks up prices in part due to their “fun dining” experience, as described on the website:

I’m here to tell you that this Barton G. Weiss character should be imprisoned for that embarrassing excuse for a brownie sundae.

The brownie and fudge were cold. Literally all you have to do to make a half-decent brownie sundae is ensure the brownie is warm, because there’s a magic dance that occurs on your taste buds when gooey chocolate is combined with refreshing vanilla ice cream.

Suffice to say that dance never occurred in my mouth. My poor taste buds were sent directly to hell.

The brownie was drier than Melania Trump when she looks at her husband.

The ice cream, while not terrible because it’s fucking ice cream, is the kind you’d expect at a high school football game.

The golden rice krispie treats could’ve broken a glass window.

In fact, if car manufacturers want to truly test the quality of their windshields, lose the crash test dummy and instead opt for the Barton G. rice krispie treat. If the windshield sustains one Barton G. krispie treat throw, it can handle ANYTHING.

Next we have the “chocolate fudge” which had already hardened on the ice cream. It was like the alleged rice krispie treat but even harder, which seemed impossible. The alleged fudge could double as a makeshift bulletproof vest, which is a HUGE plus for the waitstaff if an armed customer ever decides to lose his shit after paying $40 for the world’s worst sundae. Simply ring the sundae bell and the restaurant staff would haul ass to the kitchen and pour on their chocolate bulletproof vests.

Lastly are the “chocolate coins” which we Jews like to call CHANUKAH GELT, A.K.A the least edible (barely) item you’ll find at a Chanukah party.

Here’s an idea for the future “presentation” of this $39 sham, Barton G. Instead of having customers suffer through eating The Chocolate Indulgence, which should be deemed an act of terrorism, why don’t you have them use the cute little shovel it comes with to dig a grave and bury the thing?

I wouldn’t pay $1 for another dance with that sundae. It should be renamed Barton Flee, as in run for the hills and never look back.

Whenever I inevitably poop this thing out, it will surely be among the most liberating experiences of my life. And this will be the nicest compliment any sane person ever gives to that godawful brownie sundae.

Grade: 0.3

Email us if you’d like to nominate our next Sliced culinary victim (or hero)