Gothamist publisher Jake Dobkin is blowing the cover on this whole overhyped PokPok "Beer Slushie." Here is his exclusive report:

I'm kind of a slushie enthusiast. When 7-11 started opening locations in NYC, a lot of people were worried about gentrification pushing out all our native bodegas, but I was willing to live with it, because that's how much I like their slurpees. Those approach the platonic ideal of slushies: consistent in ice density from top to bottom, not cloyingly sweet (at least in the Coca-Cola flavor), and well-priced. They're even surprisingly low-calorie: only 130 calories, which is 50 calories less than a similarly sized soft-drink.

So a couple of weeks ago I hear from a number of publications that Pok Pok, the Portland-based Thai restaurant, opened a new branch in Red Hook, and they're serving beer slushies. Count me in. Last night I arrive. The hostess tells me there's an hour wait, but I can hang out in the holding pen out back, which is fine, because they serve the slushies there.

I order one while I wait for my friends. Ten or fifteen minutes later the waiter comes back with this bottle of Singha beer. I'm sure that's not my drink, because everyone knows a slushie is served in a large mouthed cup. But he tells me, yes, it is the slushie, and he proceeds to open it with kind of a tap-tap routine, presumably to prevent the ice from exploding the bottle when it's open. He tells me "this is meant to be drunk fast". I tell him I'll pound it.

So at this point I'm keeping an open mind, but things aren't looking good. First, there is a kind of beer foam overflowing the bottle and beginning to drip down my hand. But I persist with a full lung suck on the straw. Up comes a disappointingly watery slurry of beer and ice. Kind of like when you leave liquids at the back of the fridge, and they ice over. And even that slurry is soon exhausted: the bottom half of the bottle is just cold, not particularly flavor-filled beer. Verdict: the American Slushie Certification Committee should shut this fraud down, and Pok Pok should just call it what it is: a partially frozen bottle of beer.

I ordered a second one at the table just to be sure—same deal, except slightly more explosive when opened (two napkins). The food was pretty good, but of course that was no solace.