We Try Ron Burgundy's Scotchy Scotch Scotch from Ben & Jerry's

Supermarket Sweets

Taste-test, Aisle 1.


[Photos of prepackaged Ron Burgundy-labeled pints: Ben & Jerry's; All others: Todd Brock]

Leave it to Ron Burgundy to play hard to get.

Sweets Czarina Carrie emailed me on October 22, asking if I had any interest in trying the new limited-batch flavor from Ben & Jerry's. Duh. There was no way I'd say no to that. But then I found out what the flavor was: butterscotch ice cream with butterscotch swirls. AND it's an officially-branded tie-in with Anchorman 2: The Legend Continues (opening in theaters on December 18) . While I tried to be cool and professional as I accepted Carrie's offer (I even waited an hour to make it look like I was mulling it over), what I was actually thinking about Ron Burgundy's Scotchy Scotch Scotch was:

I want to be on you.

Okay, I swear that will be the last movie quote here. 'Cos while it would be easy to just play along with the obvious theme, I wouldn't be able to do it better than Ferrell himself has been in promoting this flick—everywhere from Dodge commercials to actual TV newscasts. And the truth is, this ice cream deserves better than an easy-punch-line schtick.


As you might be able to deduce from this photo, getting my hands on a pint of Scotchy Scotch Scotch was no small feat. I spent a full month after Carrie's invite scouring the shelves of every grocery store, drugstore, and convenience store I could find, all to no avail.

I even fired up the Flavor Locator on Ben & Jerry's website. Anchorman 2 was shot here in my city of Atlanta, but that was apparently the last we've seen of Ron Burgundy for a while; a Circle K in Columbus, Georgia is the closest place his ice cream has been spotted. That's a two-hour drive... and felt like a bit of a long shot.

Nashville, Tennessee is four hours away, but there's a high-traffic Ben & Jerry's scoop shop right on Vanderbilt University's campus, just a few miles off the interstate. And my wife just happened to be driving right through town. So I sent her with a cooler and a mission.

The brick-and-mortar's freezer was out of Scotchy Scotch Scotch in the branded pints, but an anonymous friendly scooper—my nominee for Employee Of The Month—was kind enough to hand-pack two containers—a full hour before the store even opened for the day. (Stupid time difference. I thought I had it all planned so perfectly.)


Back at home, it was obvious that B&J's had taken this new concoction seriously. The rich egg nog-colored ice cream was liberally striped with deep golden-orange streaks. The butterscotch flavor was unmistakable: strong yet smooth, and instantly triggering the need for another spoonful. Or seven.


Some of those butterscotch swirls proved to be enormous—huge globs of sweetness with little crunchy bits hidden inside. I realize that some people don't like butterscotch. Those people are flawed to their core and should not be trusted. And they certainly have no business coming anywhere near this ice cream. It is butterscotch overload, and I mean that in the very best way possible.

Movie tie-in products are always iffy. I used to work closely with movie companies, promoting their new titles when they came to town, and I can assure you that the more tie-in products for a flick, the better the branded swag, the more elaborate the PR leading up to opening night... the worse the movie. The Dodge commercials and the relentless media blitz that Ferrell's been on lately had me mildly concerned that Anchorman 2 would suck. This ice cream is killer—and therefore has me seriously worried that I'm right.

But even if the movie is a flop, I have one reserve pint of Scotchy Scotch Scotch to come home to; to enjoy out of a crystal goblet as I lounge by the fire in an inappropriately short man-kimono and my rich Corinthian leather easy chair as I groom my glorious mustache and pretend to read impressive hardbound books that feature very large words in very small type. You stay classy, Serious Sweeters.

About the Author: Todd Brock lives the glamorous life of a stay-at-home freelance writer in the suburbs of Atlanta. Besides being paid to eat cheeseburgers for AHT, pizzas for Slice, and desserts for Sweets, he's written and produced over 1,000 hours of television and penned Building Chicken Coops for Dummies. When he grows up, he wants to be either the starting quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys or the drummer for The Gaslight Anthem. Or both.