A Meditation on Scooping Gelato

As with any activity, a certain amount of preparation is involved. The athlete stretches the body. The musician tunes his instrument. The chef sharpens his/her knife. Scooping gelato is no different, my friend. Like a ninja with his throwing stars, a cowboy with his gun or a blogger with his keyboard...the individual must become one with their instrument of choice. For me, it is the scoop. The the vessel which brings our artisanal gelato to cup and then to you, dear reader.

I approach the gelato case with ease. I stand in front, taking in the beauty which rests in front of me. Swirls of creamy goodness peppered with bits of local mint, decadent caramel and a hint of alcohol every now and then. With my feet grounded into the Earth, I breathe deeply, filling every cell in my body with sweet sweet oxygen. Friend, I imagine breathing in every bit of the gelato that lies ahead of me. First it fills my head making me a bit dizzy and then swoops down my spine and into my limbs finally crashing into my feet and down into the Earth below me. I am now prepared.

I eye the scoop. Breathing in, my right arm extends toward the case and firmly, yet delicately grasps the shiny silver of the scoop. Instantly, the scoop becomes an extension of my right arm, no, friend, an extesion of my whole self. Now begins the amazing dance, the swirling of the gelato in a wonder of circular motion until the perfect egg shaped ball of gelato is positioned precisely on the edge of the scoop. With cup in left hand and gelato in right, a duet of amazing proportions occurs. It's as if Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire have taken over my limbs as they dance toward each other into a beautiful embrace. Gelato has now become one with cup. And the delicate dance goes on and on.