Molly Moon’s, I quit you.

If you’re in Wallingford for a frozen treat, forget standing in line at Molly Moon’s. Even if there isn’t a line, forget it. Instead stroll down (or up) to the Fainting Goat.

I’m not gonna beat around the bush—in terms of quality, flavor and presentation, Fainting Goat destroys Molly Moon’s.

I eat a lot of ice cream; I also eat a lot of gelato. And I do it year round. I’ve tried every ridiculous flavor at Molly Moon’s, and until Fainting Goat moved in, I thought they were a-okay, pretty good in fact. But you know how it is when something new and better comes along, the sweet seduction…it’s like a romance—you’re in it knee deep, loving every minute—until you’re not. And then, at least if you’re like me, you’re completely over it. It’s dead.

Molly Moon’s, you’re dead to me.

I want a shop with soul. You try too hard—with your silk-screened hoodies, branded ice cream scoops and oh-so minimalist décor. You’re so on point, so cool, that you’re not cool. Not anymore.

Fainting Goat, you’re the one.