You're familiar with fro-yo. This is fro-ho*. Or more formally, Frozen Hoagies. The ice cream sandwich truck shuttles between the Charlestown Naval Yard and Cleveland Circle, making several downtown stops in between where it sells homemade cookies (available large or small, called "sliders") packed around thick scoops of Chilly Cow frozen custard. A home run concept, to say the least.
Chilly Cow is great stuff: dense, satiny, with clean, true dairy flavor. I think the Arlington-based creamery gives the local ice cream joints a run for their money, and that's saying a lot for a shop that shares its local clientele with Toscanini's and Christina's. Frozen Hoagies stocks about a dozen flavors. Chocolate caramel is pretty great; black raspberry is exceptionally good.
I wasn't as impressed with the chocolate chip cookies, but that's because to me, cookies built for sandwiches should be wide and flat and provide some good crunch. These are on the squatter side with a cakey center that I don't prefer when I've got a thick, creamy filling. (Admittedly, I'm generally just a crunchy, not chewy cookie kinda girl, so take my assessment with a grain of salt.) And yet, they taste pretty good and capably serve their purpose of acting like edible bookends. Bottom line: Frozen Hoagies is a keeper. Maybe next time I'll try the Heath Bar cookies; where there's toffee, there's usually good crunch.
*Wish I'd come up with the cheeky nickname, but I gratefully borrowed it from a Yelper.
Locations vary; check the website for details frozenhoagies.com
About the author: Liz Bomze lives in Brookline, MA, and works as the Senior Features Editor for Cook's Illustrated Magazine. In her free time, she freelances regularly for the Boston Globe, Boston Magazine, the Improper Bostonian, and Martha's Vineyard Magazine; practices bread-baking and canning; takes photos; reads; and watches baseball. Top 5 foods: fresh noodles, gravlax, sour cherry pie, burrata, ma po tofu.