I've never written about Serendipity, even though it's a local business, very sui generis, half a century old, and would seem to be a perfect fit for Lost City. Maybe because the gauche, ice cream sundae palace kinda sets my teeth on edge, what with it's chandeliers and riot of dolls and kitschy decor inside designed to make a 12-year-old girl break out in pink and purple spots and go spastic with delight. (Check out it's ridiculously purple "history," complete with—yikes!—a picture of Sarah Palin.)
Still, it's odd enough to have a certain appeal. I was forced to go recently when I suggested it as a place my niece would like, and my sister took me up on the idea. The best, and weirdest part, is the ghoulish hostess, who looked like Morticia's sister, and whom I assumed is part of the family that owns the place. Why else would she be allowed at the front of house, where she could scare all the little children. Another cool thing: the big, cast-iron metal clock inside was salvaged from a local butcher that went out of business years ago.
Like Junior's and the Carnegie Deli, everything on the menu is huge. Christ, the menus themselves are huge. I knew this to be the case with the grossly oversized sundaes. But I've never before been served an ice coffee big enough for a fish to swim in. Even my Goth niece was impressed with that.