One small cup of gelato.
As of now, my day is not one of my favorites… so to cheer myself up, I would like to write about what made last night incredible.
Last night was unlike any other…
Twice a week, I walk the same path from my gym (on L and 14th) to the McPherson Square Metro Station. Twice a week, I pass the cheap Chinese food restaurant, the swanky Lima nightclub, and finally the ever so tempting crepe and gelato place. Every time I pass those windows of sweet seduction, my eyes shift. My lips tighten. My pace becomes a couple seconds slower to give myself time to imagine…
What flavor would I get? Lemon please!.. no no, Tiramisu…. no no, Strawberry, yes strawberry! STRAWBERRY AND HAZELNUT, OF COURSE.
What size? LARGE?! No Jamie, calm down please.
But then another thought immediately cuts off my hypothetical gelato orders. Jamie! You just worked out for 2 hours, what the hell are you doing. So for the first time, ladies and gentlemen, I walked through those doors and ordered a small cup of hazelnut and strawberry gelato with no hesitation. I walked out the doors with pride, pride because I knew I did the right thing. Like I knew God wanted me to purchase this gelato, and I did. I felt His gentle push on my shoulder, and I followed. I did a good thing, a satisfying thing, a gosh darn righteous thing. The weather was perfect. Why? Because it was gelato weather, that’s why. With a smile on my lips and a spoon in my hand, I took a generous scoop and shoved the heap of hazelnut happiness into my mouth. And yes, it felt, smelt, and tasted oh so good. The balance was perfect. The ratio of creamy, mellow hazelnut to the tart, refreshing strawberry could not have been more mathematically accurate. As soon as I finished inhaling the hazelnut, my brain and tongue were ready to experience the strawberry. I did not have that annoying feeling of “oh, I’m kind of tired of hazelnut… I’m getting full… Oh well, I bought it so I guess I have to force myself to finish it”. I hate forcing myself to eat food. Eating food is supposed to be an enjoyable activity. An effortless one. But this time was not the case. The woman who scooped up my gelato looked at me and must of thought to herself, “Oh yes, I know exactly how much you need”. She knew. And I’m glad she knew. Now time for the strawberry. Each bite was a burst of fresh flavor I needed to wake me up from that workout. I was eating about one spoonful per 5 steps and conveniently enough, by the time I finished, I was right in front of McPherson. My night could not have ended any better.
It’s the small things.
“What size would you like ma’am?”
“Small please, just a small.”
