Gelato turns us into single-minded story tellers. We often recount our Italian
holidays, filled with beautiful landscapes and breathtaking art, by reducing the
cultural history into rest stops between new flavors and textures of gelato. The
frozen milk concoction becomes a cultural landmark in itself, as important as
the planned visits to frescoed churches and wine tastings.
I have heard stories like this: “Yes, we saw the Birth of Venus at the Uffizi,
but what was even better was a few steps up the Via de Renai, there was a
gelateria called the ‘Gelato Circus.’ Jim ate six different flavors and, oh my
…; the bright colors, succulent fruits and the patterned swirls. It was all so
beautiful.”
Had Botticelli known he would have such stiff competition, he may have chosen a
different medium.
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