NYC’s Van Leeuwen BBQ cornbread ice cream gets grilled by The Post

Have we got a scoop for you.

Brooklyn’s own popular Van Leeuwen has released a new, outlandish flavor of ice cream that melds the summer favorites of cornbread and barbecue sauce into an impressive, $10.50 pint that’s not for the faint of heart.

Aptly named BBQ Gold Cornbread Crumble, it’s a home cookin’ of sweet harvest corn ice cream with thick chunks of cornbread and a mighty kick of barbecue sauce “swirl” to top things off.

Slabs of the extreme, limited edition combo — which follows fellow Van Leeuwen wildcards like Kraft mac & cheese and Hidden Valley Ranch dressing ice cream — were offered for free at select locations throughout the Big lone star Apple on Tuesday. It’s also available exclusively on UberEats or in any VL brick and mortar store.

Whether it’s worth it to try or buy, well, buckle up, pardner, because The Post has opinions as strong as the ice cream.

Alex’s take: BBQ misses the bullseye

Quoting Jeff Goldblum’s character in “Jurassic Park”: “Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should.”

This ice cream pulls no punches. It’s an attempt at the classic sweet and savory all in one gimmick, but lands a few bulls short of a rodeo.

No matter how you slice it (or in this case, swirl it), barbecue sauce poorly harmonizes as a dessert component. My whole body honestly jerked back like Kramer from “Seinfeld” during a first taste.

The condiment has far too much zest and overbears to a point that you forget it’s part of ice cream — or an enjoyable flavor for that matter.

At first, perhaps complex neurons of the human brain can rationalize barbecue sauce as some sort of exotic chocolate drizzle, but that wears off quickly as one tries to process all the other tastes.

This weapons-grade overdoing is especially a shame because the cornbread chunks can fend for themselves in ice cream — sans BBQ sauce — with a palatable, texturous, and cookie-like taste.

Even the conservative “vanilla or chocolate” crowd could enjoy just that sprinkled on their treats.

Moral of the story, this pint ain’t big enough for the both of them, and barbecue sauce is the glaring outlaw.

Ben’s take: The perfect gift for your ex

Unlike the ice cream, this review is short and sweet.

A challenge for fast foods that go off the beaten palate is bringing improbable-seeming flavor combos to life — in junk food form. Most amount to a combo of artificial fixings that taste like a mix of food coloring additives.

Van Leeuwen does, well, an admirable job trying to impossibly condense the essence and even texture of BBQ sauce and corn bread like frozen version of the three-course dinner gum from “Willy Wonka.”

But perhaps in the case of this discordant, sweet-savory mashup, that’s not a plus.

It tasted acrid and sour, like someone literally spilled BBQ sauce on cornbread and mashed it into a tub of vanilla ice cream.

In conclusion, BBQ sauce, cornbread and ice cream are great — on their own.

Combining them is akin to blending ammonia and bleach together to create a volatile mustard gas for your taste buds.

That’s coming from a guy who drank beer through a hot dog.