Some types of kids will eat the icing off the birthday cake and leave the moist, denuded slab of cake lying dead on the plate. They'll pull the crispy bits off the fried chicken and leave the meaty carcass behind.

I was the other kind of kid, the one who ate her treats slowly, methodically, from the worst to the best. I could spend half an hour on a Twix bar, nibbling off the greasy, slightly grainy chocolate from the top and sides before separating the cookie from the thick, soft strip of caramel, which I'd roll into a ball and eat last. Give me Lucky Charms and I'd eat every last bit of soggy, Styrofoam puff cereal until I had an entire bowl full of marshmallows. I'd marvel gleefully at my bounty before digging in with a soup spoon, the marshmallows slippery as minnows in my mouth.

This culinary deconstructionism and best-for-last attitude explains my affection for the Drumstick. First comes the nuts, to be picked off one by one with your front teeth. Then the shattery chocolate shell, to be broken and removed piece-by-piece. Next, the globe of sweet, bland vanilla ice cream, to be licked to nothingness in a precise spiral pattern. The chocolate-lined cone would be eaten in a spiral pattern too, with overlapping rows of tiny, neat bites.

And there, hidden at the very bottom, was a solid cone of chocolate. I'd still be savoring the melting lump in my mouth even after I'd washed the stickiness off my hands and settled in to watch the Smurfs.

It has been a while since A Passion for Ice Cream was our cookbook of the day, but this post marks the second time that a recipe from it has been featured here, providing ample evidence that the recipes in the book come out looking as fantastic at home as they do in the book, not to mention that its continued popularity among other food bloggers seems to indicate that the recipes taste as good as they look. This is the Cho Cho Cho brownie sundae, as constructed by Anita of Dessert First. The recipe calls for a fudgy chocolate brownie to be topped with a scoop of white chocolate ice cream and drizzled with chocolate sauce. The presentation is simple and elegant, an easy one to recreate at home and a nice way to spruce up some brownies. If the triple chocolate combination sounds a bit too rich, you can do what Anita did and substitute vanilla ice cream for the white chocolate.

A battle over where and when the ice cream sundae originated is heating up. The two American cities fighting to lay claim to inventing the treat have taken out ads in each other's local newspapers. One resident even mailed an inflatable cow to the mayor of his rival city.

Two Rivers, Wis., says that it concocted the sundae first in 1881 after a customer asked Edward C. Berners, the owner of a downtown soda fountain, to spoon a little chocolate sauce over ice cream. According to local lore, Berners began selling the new treat on Sundays.

Ithaca, N.Y., for its part, says it invented the sundae in 1892. Naturally, the city has its own folksy myth, too. As the story goes, the syrup covering the first sundae was not chocolate, but cherry. A local priest asked for vanilla ice cream with cherry syrup capped with a dark candied cherry and suggested that the dessert be named after the day.

Each town has historical markers devoted to the sundae. Two Rivers seem most passionate about the cause though. It was one of that city's residents who mailed the inflatable cow. Ithaca, for its part, said in a proclamation that people in Two Rivers are "great storytellers." As the cheeseheads like to say, "Uff da!"

If eight decadent ice cream sundae options aren't enough for you, you might want to consider a copy of Serendipity Sundaes: Ice Cream Constructions and Frozen Concoctions. The book is the second title released by the ice cream magicians at New York's famous Serendipity 3, one of the city's most popular dessert destinations. All the recipes give you instructions for how to make your own versions of their enormous sundaes (and other treats) at home. There are recipes for ice cream and sauces, but the bulk of the recipes are more "construction" oriented, which means that the book can be appreciated by anyone who's ever bought a carton of ice cream. Of course, the illustrations might tempt you to go out and purchase a few more cartons of ice cream than you originally intended to, so do be careful!

Epicurious has a link to a Breakfast Sundae from the book involving oatmeal, fruit and ice cream, which sounds odd by probably tastes good, since I know many people who add cream to their oatmeal anyway. All the same, I think that it's the sweeter treats that make the book.

I recall once reading a book where the main character liked to choose unusual sundae toppings. She might have pineapple, butterscotch and whipped cream on top of two scoops of chocolate fudge and blueberry ice cream. Inevitably, the staff would cringe as she ordered, but I couldn't help but wonder if she was on top something. Is there a certain point at which more flavors just taste better? The number of ingredients is probably a matter of personal preference, and the ultimate sundae might even be defined by its price tag, but these are eight of our top sundae combinations and you won't go wrong with any of them:

A classic sundae starts with vanilla ice cream and is topped with hot fudge sauce, whipped cream, chopped nuts and a cherry. Don't forget to put some sauce on the bottom, too!

A peanut butter cup sundae should begin with chocolate ice cream, followed by swirls of softened peanut butter, lots of hot fudge and a topping of crushed Butterfingers, for added texture and crunch.

It's hard not to love a root beer float and even harder when it comes in an old fashioned soda fountain glass. These pastel-colored glasses will have you seeing the world through rose colored glasses as you sip a delicious, refreshing, old-fashioned treat in the comfort of your own home. A great way to show these off is to invite a few friends over and set up a grown-up ice cream sundae bar that will let you relive your childhood. The designer also offers banana split boats and appetizer plates in the same collection.

In case it's been a while since you had one, to make a root beer float all you need to do is scoop some of your favorite vanilla ice cream into a large glass and, carefully, pour over a can of root beer. If you pour down the side of the glass, instead of directly on top of the ice cream, you'll be able to reduce the amount of foam you create slightly. Drink it through a straw, but don't forget to keep a long-handled spoon nearby to scoop out all the ice cream!

It is safe to say that  when the word "drumstick" is uttered, several things might come to mind. For a musician, that first thing could be the sort of drumstick that is used to, well, play the drums. The more common thought is that of a piece of poultry, also known as the drumstick. This drumstick is the lower part of the leg the fowl. Composed of dark meat, the drumstick is easy to eat with your fingers because of a protruding bone and is quite popular for snacking, as it has a high skin-to-meat ratio.

Another type of drumstick is an Asian plant. These drumsticks are long, thin pods that grow on Moringa trees and get their name from their hard outer casing. Inside that casing, however, is a soft interior which tastes slightly of asparagus. The pods are often prepared in a similar way to green beans, getting chopped into small lengths and tossed into stews, curries and noodle dishes. The seeds inside the drumsticks are edible and are about 40% oil, which can be extracted and used for cooking.

The final type of drumstick is my favorite and has been since I first had one as a kid.

I have to say, this whole super-opulent dessert trend is wearing a little thin. Maybe I'm alone on this though, since Serendipity in New York City supposedly sells one of their $1,000 Grand Opulence Sundaes every month. Maybe a little credit is due here, too, since they've been offering the dessert for more than a year. What do you get with your four-figure dish of ice cream? Well, there's Tahitian vanilla ice cream covered with gold leaf, a drizzle of "the world's most expensive chocolate" Amedei Porceleana, candied fruits from Paris, gold dragets (dragees?) and a golden dessert caviar, among other trimmings. If that seems like a lot of gold, it's because the sundae was made for Serendipity's 50th (golden) anniversary.

Brownie sundaes are so incredibly good, but don’t you feel just a wee bit kindergarten when you serve it as a dessert after an ooh-la-la dinner?

Yeah, me neither. It’s a brownie sundae for God’s sake.

But still, changing it up a little with a slightly less sweet gingerbread in place of the brownie and topping your vanilla ice cream with pineapple rum sauce instead of hot fudge feels a little more grown up. Just keep the aerosol can of whipped cream and those horrible red vinyl things called “cherries” in the fridge until your kid’s birthday party.