Restaurant Review: Taking the Liberty Bell Challenge at Brooker's Founding Flavors 

• Alex Springer

I don't tend to make a humongous deal out of Independence Day. I watch Roland Emmerich's 1996 classic sci-fi film of the same name, grill some hot dogs, drink a lot of beer and watch the firework show from my bedroom window. This year, however, I may have christened a new July 4th tradition with the help of Brooker's Founding Flavors Ice Cream.

This Colonial America-inspired ice cream parlor is home to a massive, 13-scoop-sundae known as The Liberty Bell Monumental Sundae ($76), and it comes served with its very own challenge: If you can eat the whole thing in less time than the current record, you get it for free. Thus, in the year of our Lord twenty and twenty-four, I attempted to tackle the Liberty Bell.

If you're from the northern end of the Wasatch Front, there's a good chance you've never heard of Brooker's Founding Flavors. It's a small outfit that started off in Provo, and has expanded to Saratoga Springs, Vineyard and Herriman, the latter of which was where I first gave it a go. Its Revolutionary War-era drip comes from founder Brian Brooker, a Virginia-native who opened Founding Flavors as a way to celebrate his passion for the founding of America and creamy ice cream.

When you visit, you'll notice rustic decor, antique art and a staff that is clad in Revolution-era garb such as tricorn hats and muslin gowns. The 28 flavors of ice cream include names like Aaron Burr's Murderous Shot (a vanilla ice cream turned black as Burr's heart with Madagascar vanilla) or Patrick Henry's Give Me Chocolate or Give Me Death (chocolate ice cream with fudge, truffle and ganache). It's hard not to get lost in the romance of the revolutionary era, and a big part of my decision to dive headlong into the Liberty Bell was largely based on the fact that I could try 13 of Brooker's signature flavors in one go.

In addition to housing 13 scoops of ice cream, the Liberty Bell Monumental Sundae also gets four scoops of toppings, four pumps of sauce, a foamy Everest of whipped cream, sprinkles—red, white and blue, of course—and a few cherries on top. It's served in an upside-down Liberty Bell replica that is only slightly smaller than the one they have in Philly. The current Herriman record for putting one of these bad boys down is 11 minutes and 29 seconds, and truth be told, I knew I wasn't going to hit that mark—which is why I invited my daughter and some of her cousins along for the show.

Though I didn't finish the beast in the allotted time to net me a free $80 sundae, I am proud to say that I put a considerable dent in the Liberty Bell before turning it over to my tiny relatives. Had there not been a time limit or a small band of kids who wanted a crack at a gigantic sundae, I think I could polish this thing off on a totally empty stomach—though I may not want to give that a try until this time next year, if at all.

Throughout the process of trying to devour a gigantic sundae in under 12 minutes, I did have a few ice-cream-related revelations to share. First of all, I have to give a shoutout to how good Brooker's ice cream is. When I first dug into the sundae, I got a lovely hit of John Hancock's Signature Mint Chocolate Truffle; mint chocolate chip ice cream is a childhood favorite, so it felt right that this culminating experience started there. Digging deeper, I got into that black Madagascar vanilla and then some Give Me Chocolate or Give Me Death, each flavor impressively standing out against the rapidly melting sea of ice cream.

Those who want to try Brooker's without attempting this mammoth challenge will be happy to know that their menu includes plenty of great signature sundaes. The Liberty Torch Sundae ($11), for example, gets you a waffle cone with two scoops of ice cream along with whipped cream and some roasted peanuts. My favorite signature sundae ($12) is called the Boston Massacre, and it features Crispus Attucks' First Patriot Casualty Speculoos mixed with some John Adams' Oh My Ooey Gooey Butter Cake and toffee bits. Perhaps it's the way Brooker's manages to stuff additional desserts into these particular ice cream flavors, or perhaps it's the catchy title, but this one especially struck me as patriotically delicious.

While I don't see myself downing 13 scoops of ice cream stuffed into a Liberty Bell replica any time soon, I was proud of myself for trying. After nearly 250 years of history that includes George Washington crossing the Delaware, Ben Franklin harnessing electricity and Donald Trump paying hush money to a porn star, I feel like I've finally done something worthy of my American forebears.