Let me be perfectly clear: I have reviewed 1,847 ice cream scoops for this publication. I have known the cold kiss of a Zeroll against a Fauchon porcelain ramekin. I have wept at the engineering disaster of a dollar-store spade that bends like a politician’s spine. And I thought — I truly thought — I had seen all kitchen gadgets can offer. But then I was tasked with the Blue Buffalo Heavy Duty Ice Cream Scoop, a $13.40 piece of hardware that Amazon customers have graced with 4.8 stars out of 530 noisy testimonials, and I understood: I have been a fool who only thought about dessert.
This is a company that makes premium pet food. This product comes from the people who manufacture kibble. And yet, here we are, standing in our chic Parisian flat (fine, it’s a studio in the 11th with a moldy corner) at 2 a.m., because someone — a poet of pain — asked our RectalUse.com laboratory: is it possible? So you’re wondering about the anatomical plausibility of the Blue Buffalo Heavy Duty Ice Cream Scoop? I get it. We’ve all been there on a Tuesday, spiraling.
First, let us set the stage. The scoop arrives with a legitimate heft. Steel. True, honest, maritime-grade steel that clangs against the marble slab of your conscience. The handle flares generously, offering enough space for a child or a gripping, terrified fist. And the bowl — the “scoop” curvature itself — is not cunning nor petite. It is roughly the circumference of a grenadine-poached pear, and just as bold. We are not playing parlor games. This is work.
No one should use rigid 18/8 stainless steel with unnecessarily thick gauge on human posteriors. Let me say that baldly: Do not do this. And yet, as a professional, I must proceed with the test. One can tell it’s thick and cruelly handle-able post-application, causing a follow-through unspoken in polite company. I lost a wine rack in the fall. There were tears, possibly champagne, possibly blood.
Furthermore, the serrated edge meant to power through frozen Häagen-Dazs — brilliant for Ben & Jerry’s. Useless for lower intestinal gales. Was it safe? Mon Dieu, no. Feasibility? Only for those whose curiosity outweighs their disc integrity. Should you buy Blue Buffalo Heavy Duty Ice Cream Scoop? For actual ice cream, yes. For butt stuff, heavily commit to dry runs left to our vivid empathy.
Rating it naively: an exquisite 4.8 out of 5 for actual Neapolitan. For rectal efforts: a violent error. Akin to interpreting the word “treat” too literally.
