The Hill I Will Die On: Klondike Bars Beat the Drumstick

The hill I will die on Klondike is one I will plant a flag on right in the middle of the freezer aisle, and I am standing on Klondike Hill proudly: when it comes to ice cream novelties, the chocolate-shell Klondike bar beats the Nestlé Drumstick, and I will not be moved. Now, I am going to be honest with you the way I always am — I have played for both teams. I have eaten my share of Drumsticks and enjoyed every peanut-covered one. But when the freezer door swings open and it is really and truly my choice, my hand goes for the little silver square every single time.

This post contains affiliate links. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. If you purchase through my links, I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. Thank you for supporting StephanieCooksForACrowd.com!

Let me tell you what I love about it, because I do not plant a flag without a reason. A Klondike is a beautifully simple thing — a thick square of vanilla ice cream sealed inside a shell of chocolate that cracks the second your teeth hit it. That crack is the whole experience. And here is the genius of the square: you get chocolate and ice cream in the exact same ratio in every single bite, from the first corner to the last, because the shape is the same the whole way through. Nothing runs out early. Nothing gets lopsided. It is built — whether Klondike meant it that way or not — for perfect fairness in every bite.

And here is where I have to gently break my Drumstick-loving friends’ hearts. I love a cone too — but a cone is a story with an uneven middle. The top is all chocolate and chopped peanuts and glory, and then you hit that long stretch of plain cone where the ice cream has sunk down out of reach and you are just… eating a cone. Yes, there is that famous little nugget of chocolate waiting at the very bottom, and yes, it is a lovely surprise. But you have to earn it through a dry patch in the middle, and a Klondike never once makes you work for it. Every bite of a Klondike is the good bite.

Now, I am the kind of woman who goes looking for backup, so I went and found some. When Cheapism ran a blind taste test with a panel of six judges, the humble little Klondike Original was named the best budget ice cream bar — and get this, it went toe-to-toe with a premium DoveBar, tying it on flavor at less than half the price. The judges praised its distinct chocolate flavor, its thick shell, and its big crunch. A cheap grocery-store bar, standing shoulder to shoulder with the fancy stuff, in a test where nobody knew which was which. Now, I will also be a good sport and tell you the whole truth: that very same panel crowned the Drumstick the best cone. So the cone people may have their trophy — I am gracious in victory. But my flag is planted on the bar, and my bar just went twelve rounds with a DoveBar and walked away tied. And let us not forget the single most important credential of all: there is a reason the whole world has spent decades asking “What would you do for a Klondike Bar?” Nobody, in the entire history of frozen treats, ever wrote a jingle begging you to name what you’d do for a Drumstick.

So here is the hill I will die on Klondike, one more time for everyone out there side-eyeing my freezer: the chocolate-shell square is the greatest of the ice cream novelties, every bite is the good bite, and I have a blind panel of judges and a decades-old jingle standing right here beside me. Tell me where you land in the comments. Are you Team Klondike like me, a devoted Drumstick loyalist ready to defend that bottom-of-the-cone chocolate nugget with your life, or one of those ice cream sandwich people about to open up a whole new front in this war? Come on up the hill. My flag is planted, there is a little melted chocolate dripping down the pole, and I am not going anywhere.

Hill I Will Die On — Klondike FAQ

But isn’t the Drumstick better — you get a cone and a crunch?

I hear you, and I even love a Drumstick — that first bite of chocolate and peanuts is genuinely wonderful. But the hill I will die on Klondike comes down to consistency: a cone hands you one great bite up top and then a long, dry middle, while a Klondike gives you the same perfect chocolate-to-ice-cream ratio from the first corner to the last. I would rather every bite be a good bite than fight through a stretch of plain cone to get to one.

Doesn’t a Klondike just melt and fall apart everywhere?

Oh, it absolutely does, and I am not going to pretend otherwise. A Klondike is a race against the clock on a hot day — the chocolate shell shatters and slides, and yes, I have licked more than one wrapper clean and felt no shame about it whatsoever. That little bit of chaos is part of the charm. It keeps you honest, it makes you pay attention, and I have simply chosen to love it, melty corners and all.

Are you really using a taste test to win an ice cream argument?

Absolutely I am, and I would do it again tomorrow twice. When Cheapism ran a blind taste test, the cheap little Klondike Original was named the best budget bar and tied a premium DoveBar at less than half the price — nobody knew which was which, and mine still held its own. When a blind panel backs up my freezer choices, I consider the matter closed and the wrapper is where I taped the proof.

What about the ice cream sandwich, the Choco Taco, or a fancy Dove bar?

All wonderful, all welcome at my table, none of them the hill I am dying on today. The ice cream sandwich is a fine cousin, the Choco Taco is a beloved memory I still quietly mourn, and a Dove bar is a lovely splurge. But when I want that specific crack-and-melt, thick-chocolate-shell, every-bite-the-same experience, only the Klondike will do.

Okay — are you really willing to die on this, or are you just being dramatic?

Both, and cheerfully — that is the entire spirit of this series. I truly believe the Klondike is the best of the ice cream novelties, and I am also having a wonderful time defending my freezer to the whole internet. Plant your own flag in the comments and pick your side. I will be right here, silver wrapper in hand, chocolate on my fingers, perfectly content.

More Hills Worth Dying On — Strong Food Opinions from Stephanie

• The Hill I Will Die On: Milk Duds Are the Perfect Movie Theater Candy — Another sweet little treat I will defend to my last breath, dropped one by one into a tub of buttery popcorn.
• The Hill I Will Die On: Totino’s Frozen Pizza Is Worth Every Bite — More cheap, humble, freezer-aisle joy that I absolutely refuse to apologize for.
• The Hill I Will Die On: Chick-fil-A Sauce Is the Best Waffle Fry Sauce — Another hill where I brought the receipts, this time straight from the corporate rankings.
• Browse every Hill I Will Die On — the full archive of my strongest food opinions, all in one place.

Want a little note from my table every Saturday? Join my weekly newsletter — recipes, family moments, and whatever’s happening at the Longstreth house. Sign up here.

The Hill I Will Die On — About Stephanie Longstreth

Stephanie Longstreth is the home cook, mom, and storyteller behind StephanieCooksForACrowd.com. She cooks for a family of seven in Florida — five kids, two cats, and one husband who appreciates a good meal. Four of her children came home through adoption, and family stories are woven into everything she makes and shares. Find her crowd-friendly recipes, weekly meal plans, and real family life on TikTok, Instagram, YouTube, and Pinterest @stephaniecooksforacrowd.