Glorious corn.

While some may have recently decried Western corn consumption (Michael Pollan, I'm looking at you), it's safe for me to say that corn has long been, and always shall be, a crucial part of my gastric existence. Growing up on the fertile plains of Wisconsin, each and every child knew that farmers wanted their crop "knee-high by the 4th of July" (how timely!), and the month of August was always a corn-ucopia of salt-buttery crunch feasts. During our high school years, my brother and some friends spawned a band, 1824 Techno, dedicated to eradicating an invading race of corn-based aliens via giant robots (this was during the height of the Aquabats' popularity, so cut 'em a break). Many a hot summer night during my teenage years were spent in the world-reknowned dollar movie theatres of the suburbs of Milwaukee, where not only were the tickets $2, but so were the oddly svelte bags of natural-butter-flavor-sauce soaked popped kernels at the concession stand.

I'll be honest, dear readers: through all the years, my adoration of the golden cob has yet to wane. Every late summer fills me with a hot anticipation for roasted corn salsa, delicious corn chowder, and, of course, the crown jewel of corn culinary delight: grilled ears with just a tingle of char beneath the flaxen stalks. Fortunately for all of you fans of a fermented libation, yours truly has taken up the reigns here at Capo Penn and rebirthed, like a mighty starch phoenix, the scrumptious rosemary garlic popcorn that our bartenders will gladly furnish you with your drink. The light herbal notes punch through the rich buttery backbone, and the salt dances lithely on your tongue. Right now, we are featuring a tart, fruity Dogfish Head Festina Peche and a smooth and dry Sixpoint Righteous Rye, both of which make a lovely happy hour accompaniment to our glorious corn.



The author (lower right) and family at the world's only corn palace.

A short, sweet Yunk Love note:

Dear Blogoria,
So, Cory & I (Dave the Rave) opened up the gelateria and were quickly joined by Mario - a fellow who's lived in the neighborhood for decades. We chatted about opera & big bands over coffee.

Important note: the Mexican Chocolate has a strong kick today, so all you spicy people out there... Carpe Diem!
Important combination: lemon & espresso sorbetti. Why? At first you taste the espresso followed buy a rush of refreshing lemon zip that mostly cleanse the pallate with the exception of the lingering coffee on your tongue. Quite the event in your mouth. Well worth the ride.

Lavender stracciatella (chocolate chip, baby!) has been a huge hit as well. Come get it while it's still available.

Closing note: A gentleman tried to pay for his gelato today with invisible money. Before things got out of hand, the woman next in line offered to pay since the gentleman apparently had no real money to exchange, as he was only 2 1/2 years old. Later, we were informed she was in fact his mother, and all was well. Crisis averted. Phew.

Its a fantastically ridiculously fantastic day. All doors & windows are open for the fresh air & breeze. Hope to see you all soon.

Love,
Dave & Corey (the story)

PS - a big way to go to Greg Bezanis for the awesome shot of the Avenue!

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