I am a lover of fall. Colorful, crispy leaves, oversized sweaters and brisk fall air fill me with a childlike sense of joy.

I am also a lover of ice cream. I consume it almost daily, convinced that it keeps my cortisol levels down and my seasonal depression at bay, preventing unnecessary psychiatrist trips.

Some may believe that fall is not the time for ice cream, but I disagree. It’s always ice cream season — it’s just the flavors that change.

Wendy’s has their own version of ice cream: the Frosty. But don’t get it twisted, a Frosty is not ice cream. It’s offensive to actual ice cream to refer to it as such.

That being said, when my roommate Kenzie said she was going to Wendy’s to get a Snickerdoodle Frosty, I told her she wasn’t allowed back in the house unless she brought one for me.

Despite how delicious a Snickerdoodle Frosty sounded, I prepared myself for disappointment. I’ve had a few different Frosty experiences in the past, all of them deeply underwhelming.

The classic Frosty may as well be shaved ice with sugar and a dash of vanilla. Actually, I’m pretty convinced that’s what it is.

More recently, I tried the Girl Scouts collab: the Thin Mint Frosty. I really went out on a limb with this one, considering I only tolerate mint toothpaste, and I consume peppermint exclusively in mocha or hot chocolate form.

That being said, it wasn’t bad. But I finished maybe half of the non-ice cream treat before I was over it.

The year before that, I tried the Pumpkin Spice Frosty with my former roommate Madi. This wasn’t purely underwhelming — it was truly disgusting.

I could have licked a pumpkin spice candle and been more satisfied.

Yet, when Kenzie was walking through the kitchen to the back door, I just so happened to be digging through the freezer looking for something appetizing and coming up completely empty-handed.

(Note to self: go grocery shopping.)

When Kenzie walked through the door holding my Frosty — and also my burger and fries because, as previously mentioned, I had no food in the fridge — her Frosty was already half devoured.

I pulled her aside and made her pose for a photo for this article, then approached my own Frosty with trepidation.

It looked good. It smelled good. But would it be good?

The base flavor was the classic vanilla, but there were snickerdoodle chunks and a dark, spiced sauce coating the sides.

Now that looked promising. 

I dipped my comically long plastic spoon into the cup and pulled out a bite with a big chunk of snickerdoodle and a good helping of sauce.

My eyes widened in surprise. It was … delicious. 

I inhaled about two-thirds of the Frosty, ready to keep going until my stomach started to hurt. 

Instead of begrudgingly throwing the rest away, it earned itself a spot in the door of my freezer, most likely to be thrown away at a later date. But it was an honor nonetheless.

All that being said, the price was not appropriate for the product. A small Frosty costs $4. Including my burger and fries, the total came to $13.

Considering a Culver’s kids meal, which comes with a token for real custard, is $8, the Wendy’s prices are bold.

Was the Snickerdoodle Frosty delicious? Absolutely. Will I be back for more? Probably not.

I have better things to spend $4 on. Like one gallon of gas or two-thirds of a latte.

Price can be reached at [email protected].