Dorian Hargrove 1:30 p.m., Oct. 1
Ice cream challenge: Gelato Vero, last to know
Look I know Ian Pike link text has been here last July, and I’m at the end of a long line of people who’ve discovered this mysteriously cool place.
But seeing I was in the area, last night, and seeing the neon sign for Gelato Vero Caffe shining out above the last ten yards of India Street (at 3753 India Street, 619-295-9269), I knew I had to go in and try the Real Thing.
We’re talking 10.30 last night. Most other paces were shuttering up, but you could see people moving around upstairs and down in Gelato Vero’s little skyscraper.
As luck would have it the gelato chef of Gelato Vero, Michael Sammon, was there, in the back, at work, making ice cream.
As luck would have it, he was too busy stirring to come out and tell me the secret of his success.
But the main thing was I got to try the fresh ice cream right there in the lair of The Master.
...who turns out to be the owner of Gelato Vero with his brother Aaron, was there to give me a double scoop of pistachio and caramel with brownies. I also took an espresso to sip with it... It all came to $7.69.
Result: late-nite lusciousness.
I mean depending on the night, from reading the flavor menu, Mr. Sammon might come up with anything from Honey Vanilla with Assorted Edible Flowers to Malt Ball, whatever da heck that is.
But the real thing I loved was that the place is small. That means intimate. And even this late it was nicely crowded. Students and more grizzled types, sipping, slurping and exchanging Deep Thoughts.
Alexandria’s at the next table finishing off a dark chocolate gelato. Chris, the guy she’s with, was having spumoni.
Alexandria’s in here maybe five nights a week.
Thing I’ve learned tonight: Whenever you can, have coffee, espresso with your gelato. Maybe even with your espresso gelato. They go together like a horse and carriage.
And don’t bring your laptop, bring your brightest thoughts. Small talk ain’t gonna cut it here. Not from what I was overhearing.
So Ian, you beat me by 3 months. I feel like Scott talking to Amundsen (talking of ice…)
But I ain’t proud.
This is a little gem, even if I am the last to find out.