Gelato

I mean I really wish I had some great detail shots of gelato cones stacked up in all pastels, no drips and maybe a dollop of cream on the top. Oh but I ate them all! I can remember the flavors–banana cream with crunchy sesame seeds, ricotta with orange slices, grapefruit, dark chocolate and wine, strawberry, yogurt, almond, cream of cardamom, lemon basil, hazelnut…Joe had many versions of liquor-rich licorice, and pistachio made with nuts from various countries. Lux ate a little of everything.

There’s magic in the gelato system. You can get a cone for a two-euro coin, there’s no tax. The exchange–they had you a cone, you hand them a small heavy coin, feels satisfying unlike any cash register experience in the states. Shops are everywhere, so even the slightest inclination for a snack, the faintest whiff of “wouldn’t it be nice to stop for a minute…” can be indulged. Gelato bolstered our trips across the city; several times I felt a little overwhelmed by the day ahead, and I would pick up a cone for myself while we pushed the stroller, even at 9am. And that easy “con panna” phrase that gets you a festive scoop of whipped cream on top. Is it traditions like this, this easy way of relishing a small refreshment, that earn Italians our envy for good living?

A gelato cone or cup is usually ordered with three flavors next to each other. Some people are very good at putting together medleys within this system. I am much too curious and stack the oddest things together. Once I pushed it to far and chose pear and gorgonzola as the base layer for my cone after a creamy vanilla and dark chocolate mix. Lux was the eager puppy who finished off that overdose.

If you’re going to Rome, I think the Eat Rome app has the best list for finding all the amazing options. But our favorites were Gelateria del Teatro, Fanta Morgana and Gelateria Corona.