Instead of saving room for dessert, I made the mistake of ordering a vanilla shake to go with lunch on one recent visit to Potter Sundry.

Not that I’m really complaining, mind you. They prepare things with the same appreciation of tradition as you might have found at a soda fountain way back in the day: several heaping scoopes of ice cream and a little additional liquid. So what arrives at your table is a scalloped glass filled to the rim and a metal container almost equally overflowing--enough for almost two refills.

Their shakes are thick and hefty, taxing the straw so much that you are force to switch over to sturdier  vessels, such as a long spoon, to deal with the treat. The flavors are so straightforward you can tell the quality of ice cream. It may be the best shake in the panhandle. If they only switched to a better brand, such as Haagen Dazs, it would rival anything served at poncy high end retro diners in New York or Los Angeles.

There was no room afterward for one of the parlor’s famous tin roof sundaes.

Call it bad planning on my part. Or perhaps I was just being clever, creating an excuse to head back that direction. After all, Potter Sundry is the closest thing to an authentic old fashioned ice cream parlor in the region.

Really, there’s no reason to expound on the tin roof sundae. Those in the know already bail off I-80 for the dish. That Potter Sundry also serves meals may be lost in a swirl of chocolate, peanuts and  wonderfully rich butterfat.

OK, so the menu is hardly extensive, consisting generally of breakfast, burgers and other sandwiches. The burgers, however, can be weighty and grilled to the point where a bittersweet veneer burns into its edges.

In one of the more expensive versions, they pile this with onion rings and barbecue sauce--and intriguing combination that should add texture (in the form of crisp, fried rings) and an acidic zing. But the sauce is a narcissitic beast, sweet and tangy and intent on calling attention away from the patty and onto itself.

It drapes over the onion rings and meat, taking over the entire sandwich.

Too bad, for the narrow and cramped kitchen doesn’t do a bad job at all.

But Potter Sundry is more parlor than diner--an rightly so. The shakes, the famous tin roof concoction, the shakes...

Alright, so I appreciate a well churned glass of ice cream and milk. Don’t follow my lead, though--you’ll have to go back later for a proper dessert.