Just the other day, I was sitting in my office on the nineteenth floor; tasks-to-do in a mental queue and meetings pending as usual. A knock on the glass sliding door was heard. I motioned the universal hand sign for “come in,” barely glancing up. A man not much older than I, wearing a black jacket with “Fedex” emblazoned, walked in carrying a mid-sized package. Admittedly surprised, even though I was forewarned, I signed for it. As soon as he left, sliding the door shut behind him (I was back within the safety of my corporate enclosure), I immediately and excitedly began to open the package with a pair of dull scissors. Inside of it was a Styrofoam icebox, wrapped with care in blue tissue paper, tied with red string and a small white envelope. I put the envelope aside for later (against the upbringing of the “read-the-card-first” mantra). I opened the icebox and to my delight, under a paper bag of very cold dry ice, lay anxiously six pints of Capogiro Gelato, compliments of Stephanie and John Reitano (proprietors of Capogiro Gelato, Philadelphia). The manifest of flavors was as follows:
Sweet Potato with Pecan Praline
Pompelmo Rosso (Ruby Red Grapefruit) con Campari
Ananas (Pineapple) con Sage
Fico d’India (Cactus Pear)
As soon as I got back to Kelli’s midtown apartment with the gelato, she and I conducted a very professional taste test: we opened each container expediently and haphazardly and, both armed with an oversized spoon, commenced to quite properly stuff our faces (the way it was meant to be eaten, I’m sure). Beyond our stomach’s limit, we broke infrequently to try and mutter our reactions: Kelli loved the Cioccolato Scuro (dark chocolate) gelato; I was in love with the Pompelmo Rosso (Ruby Red Grapefruit) con Campari sorbetto. It was much better tasting than we could ever dream gelato or sorbetto being.
Looking back on that night, it was gelato puppy love I’m sure. Now that my tastes have developed, and the initial passion has subsided, I can confidently say that it is true love bar none. Capogiro Gelato, like Kelli, is here to stay.
Ironically, as I write this in my warm apartment and it’s snowing outside (supposedly a New York City eight inches), I am enjoying a heaping bowl of Fico d’India sorbetto (what’s left, that is). I do not doubt that it is quite an experience to go to the Capogiro Gelato store in Philadelphia, but there is something to be said about eating it at home, in the comfort of warmth when it’s blistering cold outside. It is, for lack of a better word, funny. Like love I guess.
Previous Post: Capogiro: Gelato Artisans
To get some delivered to your doorstep, order online:
Or, if you are in the Philadelphia area, visit their store:
119 S. 13th Street
Philadelphia, PA 19107