Cup or Cone?

When I was growing up there was a Carvel stand at the top of my street. There was not a lot of spare money in our family for treats, but in the summer someone would take me to Carvel’s once every two weeks or so. I always got the same thing: a soft serve vanilla cone with chocolate sprinkles. I watched in amazement as other people spoiled their ice cream with pineapple topping or nuts.

Then for a while I went into a cup phase. I became enamoured of strawberry sundaes. I entered adulthood still as a cup enthusiast and experienced the introduction of super premium ice creams and even my first tastes of gelato as a confirmed cup consumer.

But last summer I converted back to cones. It was the flick of the wrist of the man working the counter as San Crispino in Rome that did it. I watched him magically wrap first one and then a second ribbon of flavor on top of the cone with the artistry of the glass blowers in Murano. He looked up smiling. “Panna?” The only answer is yes – I want a swath of unsweetened whipped cream perched on top of my two flavors.

Then the fun begins. I am handed by Bacio meringue and pistachio confection and emerge back into the sunlight and must find the perfect balance between tasting and savoring every bite, but not letting it melt out of control over my hand. It’s a living yin/yang exercise. The light and darkness, speed and languor, what is to come and what had already been enjoyed – all an experiment that can be carried out for $3 on any day within a two block walk. It’s like a walking meditation. And when I am done – no container to dispose of, no sign left of my struggle, except perhaps a bit of sticky sweetness on my fingers.