Cycling The Road Less Travelled

First thing, let me just say that a) yes, we’re talking about food again and b) this one is for Dougy.

It was a really hot day and we had cycled a long way so today we decided we would really treat ourselves and go all out on gelato: “Three flavours…oh, and a waffle cone too…yeah”. So after pitching up our tent, we walked into town and staked out all the gelaterias like we usually do. We were convinced we had the right gelateria when we found one proudly displaying a sticker on the door indicating they had won an award for their coffee flavour gelato. “Looks promising!”, we thought. We went in and did our usual check;

1. Look for signs saying “Produzione Artigianale.” (i.e. made the old-fashioned way with natural ingredients). Sign found. Produzione Artigianale: check

2. Check the variety of flavours: Nero, caffe, straticella, tiramisu…yup, all our favourites. Variety of Flavours: check

3. Check the color and consistency. Colors look natural and consistency looks good. Color and consistency: check

4. And finally, look for the spatula. Here I should explain. We noticed that the best gelaterias use a spatula-like utensil to pack down and scoop the gelato. (It’s a little messy but you end up with a mountain of gelato). Our experiences have been so consistent that we have come to equate the presence of the spatula with a good gelataria that takes pride in their gelato and the presence of the ice cream scooper with a bad gelateria. (Kinda like a French patisserie wrapping their croissants in plastic. That just ain’t right! Clearly a patisseur that raps his croissants in plastic just doesn’t love his croissants. But anyway, I digress…back to “Tragedy in Italian Gelateria”). Presence of the spatula: check

So, we go ahead and order the first gelato. “Nero, caffe e straticella per favore”. She grabs the waffle cone. Oh, the excitement! We’re all atingle with anticipation. We look at each other and smile. Then what should happen?!!! She reaches behind the counter and, to our shock and dismay, brings out…the melon-baller. Our faces drop and I can hear both of us gasp in horror. “What is this?!!! Mama mia! No!! No!! Use the spatula! The spatula!” we both pleaded in our heads. But alas, we were both to shy to say anything; we just stood there in total shock, like deer caught in headlights. She scooped up a tiny little ball of nero and dropped it into the cone, it disappeared into this now seemingly huge waffle. She then scooped up the caffe and straticella…again they disappeared like pebbles tossed into the Grand Canyon. She then asked if she could fill the gapping holes with whipped cream. “No, grazie”, we whimpered. She handed us the cone, we paid and left without ordering the second gelato. We tried to recover from this devastating blow by going to another gelateria for the second cone, but alas the damage was done, our hopes and excitement had been dashed. Truly a tragedy in an Italian gelateria.