If ice cream solves all, then gelato can save the world.
At least my world, at least my bad mood. Gelato can save an evening bordering on the brink of argumentative, or boring, or ordinary.
Ciao Bella (a phrase I never thought I could hear again without cringing after a semester in Florence) might just become my go-to treat for hump day, a bad day, any day.
On Mott, it’s someone else’s New York, my dream city’s quiet, shaded streets and brick fronts. Little boutiques behold leather belts with burnished hardware, big-beaded jewelry, and military-inspired puff-sleeve dresses. Tiny, bustling restaurants emit a happy din, a warbled note or two of individual soundtracks, and the bell tinkling of wine glasses. And, then, there’s Ciao Bella’s gelateria.
Two samples are afforded for each customer, so I try a pink gob of rose-petal, and a chewy taste of hazelnut biscotti. My game is to try two flavors, then select two others in a small cup, so that I will have sampled as many tastes as possible.
A rich chocolate paired with pomegranate sorbet is too delicious and sweet too soon, and can’t be finished. My eyes have always been bigger than my stomach, and even with the smallest size I have to ask the boy to finish it for me. Soon he’s double-fisting twin cups as we meander down the blocks, hearing the call of two kids on a stoop twice (on the way there and on the way back) selling their mountain bike for a mere sixty dollars.
It’s odd, it’s off how tactile and tangible things can cover disappointment and malcontent. But also how great, that a hurdle can be overcome, at least momentarily, by a common pleasure.
At least my world, at least my bad mood. Gelato can save an evening bordering on the brink of argumentative, or boring, or ordinary.
Ciao Bella (a phrase I never thought I could hear again without cringing after a semester in Florence) might just become my go-to treat for hump day, a bad day, any day.
On Mott, it’s someone else’s New York, my dream city’s quiet, shaded streets and brick fronts. Little boutiques behold leather belts with burnished hardware, big-beaded jewelry, and military-inspired puff-sleeve dresses. Tiny, bustling restaurants emit a happy din, a warbled note or two of individual soundtracks, and the bell tinkling of wine glasses. And, then, there’s Ciao Bella’s gelateria.
Two samples are afforded for each customer, so I try a pink gob of rose-petal, and a chewy taste of hazelnut biscotti. My game is to try two flavors, then select two others in a small cup, so that I will have sampled as many tastes as possible.
A rich chocolate paired with pomegranate sorbet is too delicious and sweet too soon, and can’t be finished. My eyes have always been bigger than my stomach, and even with the smallest size I have to ask the boy to finish it for me. Soon he’s double-fisting twin cups as we meander down the blocks, hearing the call of two kids on a stoop twice (on the way there and on the way back) selling their mountain bike for a mere sixty dollars.
It’s odd, it’s off how tactile and tangible things can cover disappointment and malcontent. But also how great, that a hurdle can be overcome, at least momentarily, by a common pleasure.
And that even a peon like me, grasping for a slice of talent, with roommates and no savings, with powdered soup and worn soles can partake in a little luxury like the inhabitants of Mott.
That, and your kind comments of course, picked me back up again...
4 comments:
Many thanks to debo who pointed us towards the flagship, even though we protested that we could just get the blood orange pints at the bodega...
gelato is so awesome!!!
I had gelato for the FIRST time last week!
Ah Gelato... Sweet, subtle nectar of the Gods. It first found me on a sports trip to Rome in '02. In no time my crewmates were sneaking off between races to indulge. Thereafter followed a week of gelato touring through Tuscany - gelato in the Venetian rain, gelato in the Florentine sun and gelato in the crowded piazzas of Sienna and San Gimignano. No-one touches Italy for dining pleasure; I could feast forever in that country...
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