THERE is bourbon in the Bourbon Street milkshake, served at Brooklyn Bowl, the loud, slick palace of fun that opened last year in Williamsburg. There’s also a sizable gobbet of Nutella, its nutty richness meant to evoke pralines  and by extension New Orleans, and by further extension the wild time you might have in New Orleans but are now presumably having in Brooklyn. And, of course, there is ice cream  the good stuff, with egg yolks and real vanilla, certainly better than anything you’ve ever eaten in a bowling alley.

The shake, like the rest of Brooklyn Bowl’s food offerings, was conceived by the Bromberg brothers  Bruce and Eric  of Blue Ribbon restaurant fame. From the very beginning of the project, Bruce Bromberg said, they knew they wanted a spiked shake.

How could there not be a boozy shake on the Brooklyn Bowl menu, a grab-bag of high-toned versions of every fried and melty thing your parents once frowned at? The menu was designed, he said, with “childhood memories of birthday parties” in mind.

In a culinary landscape teeming with art-directed burger joints and endless fancied-up takes on mac and cheese, maybe it’s time to welcome a new kind of “fusion” cuisine: childhood fusion. Where the original fusion boom of the 1980s had chefs ransacking Asia, now the place to find inspiration is over on the kids’ menu. Ice cream. Plus liquor. Together. In a big glass. Could there be a better emblem of the sort of juvenilia-with-a-wink that defines the current food aesthetic?