Penguins love apricots and riding around in cars...

One beautiful summer day, a state trooper was positioned on the side of picturesque Kelly Drive, awaiting speeders and other na'er-do-wells to come along the road. After a while, he was starting to doze off when he saw a station wagon barreling down the street, a wild-haired woman behind the wheel. In the back seat, several little penguins were bouncing around, eating cups of apricot sorbetto.

The trooper could barely believe his eyes. He turned on his siren and quickly pulled the woman over. As he approached the driver side window, the woman poked her crazy head out and innocently asked what the problem was. The trooper took his hat off and scratched his head.

"Look lady", said the trooper, "You can't just have these penguins bouncing around in your back seat like this, eating all of that apricot sorbetto. You've got to take them to the zoo. Now, before I issue you a citation."

The driver looked at the trooper and replied sweetly that she would take the penguins there straight away. The trooper waved her on and went back to his position.

One week later, the same state trooper was positioned at a speed trap on the same stretch of Kelly Drive, when out of nowhere the same station wagon with the same wild-haired woman came peeling along down the road. In the backseat of her car bounced the same little penguins, covered in apricot sorbetto.

The trooper was aghast. He pulled the station wagon over a second time. This time he ran up to the driver, shouting, "Lady, what the heck are you doing?! I told you to take those apricot-loving penguins to the zoo!!"

The woman turned to the disgruntled state trooper and said sincerely, "Oh, but officer, I did take them to the zoo. We had such a great time that now we're on our way to the museum!"

Yuk, yuk.

Raspberries and Blueberries and Peach and Apricot, oh my!

Mirtillo con Crema
Blueberries and Cream

Pesca Gialla
Lancaster County Yellow Peach

Albicocca
Lancaster County Apricots

Lampone Rosso
Lancaster County Red Raspberries

Summer is here and Capogiro's aflutter with fresh, local fruits. The photos of the gelati/sorbetti above are the flavors we had Monday at 13th street, but check the Daily Flavor list to see what flavors we have near you today.

There is literally no better time to stop by Capogiro then now. These are the days you dream about when you come in the stores in December and ask why we don't have raspberry. (Not that you don't happily settle for Blood Orange.) These are the days you stop by Capogiro during lunch, AND after dinner. These are the days the word, "Piccolo," is temporarily removed from the language center of the brain, replaced excitedly by, "Medio, please!" These are the days y'all. These are the days. I'll see you soon.

Black Raspberries Make John Nuts...

Nuts, you say? Yes, I say. John has a weird thing for certain flavors. Everyone knows that when black raspberries come around, John will be in a sort of panic. "Don't make Black Raspberry Gelato, ONLY sorbetto. Don't ruin the berries that way. Please, Steph. Call all the stores and tell them not to make gelato. ONLY SORBETTO!" He turns to Dan, "Dan, just sorbetto, agreed? You're with me." I pat his head and calmly say, "Okay honey. It'll be alright. I'll call..I'll call."

I don't ever call. I love the gelato with black raspberries. I do feel a little bad (not much, 'cause it's funny) when John stumbles into one of the cafes to get his morning fix of espresso and spots the black raspberries tainted with milk. Someone has to pay. It's not me and luckily, everyone knows John is a little off during the two weeks we are graced with black raspberries. We all shake our heads, "Sure, John. ONLY sorbetto, we understand. It won't happen again." Then he will text me, "They are ruining the black raspberries! Make sure you call everyone! Did you call everyone?" A big smile creeps across my face as I text, "What were they thinking?!?! Bastards! I will call them. xoxo"

Two weeks, my friends. They are here, not many. Come and get them before John does.

What Has Happened to Me?

I'm glad I was home alone on Wednesday, watching the USA vs. Algeria World Cup match on my laptop. If I were around anyone I knew, they would have suspected that some kind of alien sports parasite had infected my brain; causing me to act like a howling idiot.

I am not a "sports guy". Sorry, Philadelphia. I'm happy for y'all when one of your teams win, but it does not effect me viscerally at all. There's always a peripheral interest there, but I admit that I scoff and curse grumpily when fans pour out of local bars hooting and shouting and honking their horns. What a stick in the mud, eh?

I dig soccer, though. I don't dig it enough to carry a razor blade and get in rumbles with the fans of opposing teams, or paint my face and wear a jersey, but I dig soccer nonetheless. I began really liking the game while working in an English-owned pub in Pasadena, CA called Lucky Baldwin's, where passionate English and Irish soccer fans would crowd the bar and cheer on their teams. It was infectious: I learned players' names, who was ahead in the standings, who was in danger of being relegated, you know.

So I've watched the game pretty passively over the years from then on and have tried to keep up with the who's-who and what's-what of international play. When World Cup rolls around, I try to catch as many games as I can, and usually--randomly--choose a team to root for.

Why randomly? Well, who should I root for? America has been a non-presence in the Cup since, what, 1930?

Yes, until now. The US team this time around has a shot at progressing deep into the finals, don't they? This is astonishing to me for a couple of reasons. Firstly, that it is indeed possible at all. Secondly, THAT I CARE.

Watching that match against Algeria, I was yelling and pounding on the coffee table. I was groaning and curled up in a tense ball. I was peeping at the game anxiously through my fingers. When Buddle's strong header went zooming towards goal I nearly pooped a little. When Dempsey's shot hit the post I screamed, "aw, crap, COME ON!". And when, quick as a flash, Donovan blasted in that rebound in stoppage time, I sat slack jawed as tears began welling up in my eyes.

I sat there and laughed, because if my wife would have been home at that moment she would have stared at me in disbelief and asked in a mocking tone what the heck was wrong with me. WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH ME?

Okay, sports fans: I get it. It's awesome when the improbable happens and it's a rad feeling to have someone to root for, and I am rooting for USA hard from here out. You better believe that Saturday's match against Ghana is going to be watched by hook or crook, even if I have to hack our point-of-sales terminal somehow so that it displays the game.

Hmmm...

Burn After Reading

LOCATION:Philadelphia, PA

DATE: June, 2010

INVESTIGATION: Unexplained paranormal link between pregnancy and gelato

BRIEF: Field agents have been alerted to a disproportionately high number of expectant mothers patronizing Capogiro, a local business specializing in high-quality Italian gelato. To many witnesses, these subjects seem to be under some sort of mind-control, with only a single mission: the mass consumption of gelato.

Personnel have noticed that these subjects tend to crave the more savory varieties for their purposes, particularly dark chocolate and pistachio. Subjects are also known to purchase and devour several servings of gelato in one sitting. The local population is concerned that gelato stock may be diminished by these pregnant patrons, and have requested an immediate emergency action plan should rations run low.

FINDINGS: Possible explanations include, but are not limited to; fetal alien brainwashing, behavior modification microchips, mass hysteria, pregnant flash mobs, zombie apocalypse, gelato addiction epidemic.

CONCLUSION: As of now, the case remains open.

Cuckoo for Lulu Lavender

In ancient Rome, lavender was sold for 100 denarii per pound, which was about the same as a month's wages for a farm laborer, or fifty haircuts from the local barber. [Wiki]

2,500 (or so) years later, you can enjoy lavender in a style the ancient Romans had yet to invent... In gelato!! And you don't have to throw down a month's pay for it either.

Our organic lavender--yes, organic--comes from the lush farms of Vineland, NJ. And while you may wonder, as I did at first, why we'd even put lavender in gelato. One good taste will answer that question quite beautifully. That's because lavender lends a floral and slightly sweet flavor to the smooth Lancaster County milk we marry it with. And what a sweet marriage it is, truly. Still skeptical? Come get a taste!!

Until then, I leave you with these photos. :)

GRANITA @ 20th St: An Ode

Dear RJ, when you make granita at 20th Street it makes me so happy. I'll admit, I was skeptical when you said that you were going to try a kiwi banana granita. However, I'm eating my words today. Yum.

Capogiro was the first place I ever experienced true granita, and it was your's. In a city of water ice stands, I had no idea that the real thing could be so fresh and amazing. Maybe it's the crystalline texture, or perhaps the myriad of flavors that are so well paired with this style of dessert.

It's true, RJ. Your granita is a many splendid thing. This week you have made us have espresso granita (zing!), grapefruit granita (divine), black grape granita (uh, wow), and now kiwi banana granita.

Well done, sir. Well done indeed.

CHOW Shout out!

Those friendly foodies over at CHOW have graced Capogiro with a nice spot in their Summer Gift Guide. Thanks CHOW hounds! We think your site is a gift to food freaks everywhere. Holla!
Photo by, Christopher Rochelle, CHOW.com

Wheaaaat!

Every morning for about four weeks straight, I came to Capo13, toasted a bagel, covered it with a choice delicious cream cheese that Steph whipped up, and tasted heaven with a hole in the middle.

It's been a bit since we began carrying H and H bagels, so I've gradually wound down to a more acceptable level of bagel consumption... but I'm afraid it's kicked back up again. Outrageous, you say. Well don't get your knickers in a bunch, that's silly and uncomfortable. There's a simple explanation.

Last week we had a revelation that prompted action. What did we do? We added wheat bagels to the glorious bagel menu!

If I had sworn to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, I would tell you this: They are incredible. The wheat is a slightly heartier, perhaps sweeter, and surely lovely bagel with a flair of unique texture and a rich golden brown color. It's dazzling and enthralling to the eyes, nose, mouth, and ears (when you bite into it). I'm fairly sure I'll never skip a bagel a day again.

WORLD CUP FEVER! ITALIA!!!

Are you spending your early mornings watching the games? Have you been catching those 2:30 primetime matches? You should. Please do. I know, I know, Americans don't do the whole soccer thing and the term "soccer mom" is akin to calling someone ugly.

I must agree with some of the criticisms that are issued to our European titans of the sport. We can handle the whole smash em up part of sports. We love a great tackle in the red zone, jump to our feet when someone is smashed to the glass off the ice, and gasp when hacked under the hoop. When we see grown men roll over and over and over and OVER and grasp their ankles or legs or head and seem to cry after what looked like a...trip, we roll our eyes. Americans have a hard time with what seems to be "wimpish, cry-baby" behavior. Unfortunately, it is not that simple. Soccer or Football in most places, is truly a beautiful game where each possession can change a game. Rarely do you see a sport in which a team can be dominant and lose. Each goal scored is practically miraculous. The rolling and grabbing and diving is part of the game. Liken it to "drawing a foul" in basketball. Although, the room for cheating (diving) and debate are huge. Referees make an error and it costs the game. There is no video replay or "take backs" in this league.

You must watch the USA this year. If only to see Tim Howard, the Goalkeeper. He is truly great. In fact, he is one of the greatest. Please watch this guy. He'll make you proud.

The fans are borderline psychotic. When I was in my early twenties, I was traveling with a close friend from college, Nica. Nica and I were in Brussels on our way into the train station for a day outing to Bruges. We walked into pandemonium. There were hundreds of peoples yelling and the police were everywhere. We witnessed several men being dragged up the stairs by police while being hit with small clubs and lines of men on their bellies with police standing above them. These men looked possessed; screaming and carrying on while clearly not in control of themselves. Nica and I had a difficult time getting to the correct platform. We had no idea what was going on. I asked a man who was waiting for the same train (in very bad French) why the commotion? He replied (in better English than my French) "Soccer game." Soccer? What?!? He had to be kidding.

My kids play soccer. Yes, I am a soccer mom. Don't hate me. All of these crazy aspects of a European dominated sport intrigue me. It is a beautiful game. I will run off today to catch the Italy v. Paraguay game at 2:30. Perhaps I will go the the Piazza in Northern Liberties. We watched USA v. England there this weekend. It was packed. I loved it. I had a delicious burger from P.Y.T. and then some gelato from Nana Petrillos. Fantastic! Someone was actually blowing Vuvuzelas. Look at all the people at the Piazza on Saturday! It was fantastic!

Come and join me.