Although
I have only been living in Florence for just over a month and it has been
frigid cold—not just winter-cold, but Antarctica-cold—I’m already a regular at Gelateria dei Neri. My sweet tooth just cannot be stopped. I have spent many nights bundled from head to
toe in every article of clothing I can find in order to trek down the street to
indulge in a cup of light, creamy gelato.
And through my sampling, I’ve quickly learned that Gelateria dei Neri is one of the best. Every time I walk through the door, I head
straight for the gelato, ecstatic to taste their homemade Nutella, Frutti dei
Boschi, Straciatella, and even Cookies and Cream. I rush right past the fluffy cakes and
pastries, despite their overpowering aroma that can be smelled from all the way
down the street.
Last
night, after a big dinner of spinach and ricotta filled tortellini and a fresh
salad lightly coated with balsamic vinegar, my sweet tooth was craving a trip
to dei Neri. Luckily, I wasn’t alone.
“Anyone
else want dessert?” a couple of my roommates chimed in almost
simultaneously. Yes, we all did.
So
the five of us scrounged through our apartment for extra change, put on our
coats, and set off once again for our favorite gelato. When we arrived at the Gelateria, however, the treats in the front caught my eye for the
first time. Semi-freddi, the sign read above bins of creamy, non-frozen
desserts. I was ready to break away from
my usual gelato, to try something that was authentically Florentine.
After
much contemplation, I ordered una piccola
coppetta di bongo. Otherwise known
as profiterole, bongo is a Florentine
specialty. They are tiny baked
puffed-pastries filled with vanilla cream and topped with whipped cream and a
drizzle of melted chocolate. The moment
my eyes laid upon the cup of tiny balls covered in all my favorite things, my
mouth began to water. I could almost
taste the chocolate, feel the whipped cream light on my tongue. A tiny gelato spoon was stuck right on top,
and after struggling for a solid minute to balance one bongo on the little spoon, I tossed the piece of plastic in the
garbage, diving in with my fingers and popping a bongo into my mouth.
An
explosion of cream told me I was in heaven.
It was cool and smooth and perfectly complimented the chewy pastry and
rich chocolate. I couldn’t help but let
out a sigh of pleasure before shoving the remaining contents of my tiny cup
into my mouth. So much for savoring my first authentic Florentine dessert, I
thought. But I could not have felt more
intense satisfaction.
Good grief I could almost taste the bongo from TN!!
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