There are moments in life when you realize you’ve made a mistake. Buying white pants during marinara season. Believing you could “just watch one episode.” And, in my case, thinking I could eat just one Blue Bunny Load’d Sundae without spiraling into a sugar-coated, fudge-swirled hole of indulgence.
Blue Bunny, in its infinite wisdom (and possibly in collaboration with my waistband’s mortal enemy), has brought back their Load’d Sundaes—only now, they’re smaller, which is adorable, misleading, and frankly dangerous. Because instead of feeling satisfied, I now feel entitled to two. Maybe three. Who’s counting? Certainly not me. I’m too busy pretending I’m taste-testing them for science.
Now, let’s be clear: these are not dainty little scoops. These are chaos in a cup. Each sundae is an architectural feat of whipped frozen madness, with toppings erupting like a dessert volcano. We’re talking gooey swirls, chocolate shrapnel, peanut-butter-stuffed creatures masquerading as bunnies, and brownie chunks so dense they could be used as free weights. Blue Bunny proudly advertises that these sundaes are load’d to the max, and they’re not lying. I opened one and audibly gasped. It was like finding treasure at the bottom of a snack aisle.
My first flavor trial: Chocolate Brownie Bomb. I assume “bomb” is short for “bombardment of my dignity,” because this all-chocolate sundae came loaded with enough fudgy rubble to demand its own excavation crew. The brownie chunks are rich, chewy, and unapologetically aggressive, and the fudge bunnies just hop in to mock your portion control.
Then I tried Bunny Tracks. Vanilla frozen dessert, fudge and caramel swirls, chocolate-covered peanuts, and the infamous peanut-butter-filled bunnies. It’s the Trail Mix of Shame. You’ll tell yourself it’s protein-rich because of the peanuts. You’ll lie to your mirror.
Now, I do appreciate that they’re trying to make these more “budget-friendly” and “perfectly portioned.” That’s nice. It’s cute. It’s optimistic. But if I’m being honest—and I am, because my spoon has betrayed me—this is not a one-and-done snack. This is the gateway snack that leads to freezer drawer reorganization and regret-flavored dreams.
Still, the texture? Ridiculously soft, like it’s been waiting just for you. The mix-ins? Generous enough to suggest someone over at Blue Bunny truly gets me. If anything, I’m slightly offended by how delicious these things are. It feels like entrapment. I didn’t plan to make Load’d Sundaes part of my personality, but here we are.
So if you’re looking to ruin your evening plans with a perfectly engineered sugar crash, Blue Bunny Load’d Sundaes are right there, lurking in the freezer aisle, smiling at your false sense of willpower.
And yes, I ate another one while writing this for research.