WTF is stracciatella?

In keeping with last week’s theme of flavors that are difficult to identify and describe (please see the blackcurrant debacle described below), at GiGi’s Gelateria, Melanie and I both tried stracciatella gelato. Before tasting it, there were a few things we knew with certainty: it had a vanilla base, it had chocolate chips, and it looked delicious. After greedily eating our gelato, we knew less about what we just ate than before. GiGI’s stracciatella gelato does not taste the same as its vanilla, as Melanie explained below. So then, what exactly is stracciatella? Good thing the internet has all the answers.

Googling stracciatella yielded unusual results, leading me to believe I had misspelled something. Stracciatella is an Italian egg-drop soup, which derives its name from the Italian word stracciato meaning “torn apart.” Stracciatella soup is made by boiling a broth and then slowly pouring a raw egg mixture into it. When the egg mixture hits the hot broth, it forms stracciatelle or “little shreds” of cooked egg in the broth.

As egg drop soup is nothing like gelato, I was certain that either Google or I had made a mistake (Google is always right, so I blamed myself and some clumsy typing). But then, I kept prowling the web until I got an explanation as to why egg drop soup and gelato share a name.

Stracciatella gelato typically has a vanilla base and small bits of chocolate in the gelato. However, to make stracciatella, chocolate bits are just not added to the gelato and then mixed in. Rather, gelato geniuses developed a technique where they pour a thin continuous stream of melted chocolate into the cold vanilla gelato while churning it. When the hot chocolate hits the cold gelato, the sudden change in temperature causes the chocolate to get “torn apart” into small bits of chocolate that are dispersed throughout the gelato. So the soup and the delicious dessert share a name because the two dishes share a preparation technique.

GiGi’s stracciatella was delicious, but after doing this research, I really want to watch stracciatella be made. Perhaps that can be a side quest.

Gigi Gelateria: A North End Gem in a Citizen's Bank

We ventured to the North End yesterday in search of Sapori di Napoli, which for some reason (that I'm sure isn't nearly as important as our gelato quest) is closed until October 18th. Gelato fail, Sapori. We'll catch you another time.

We wandered back to Hanover Street and "settled" for Gigi Gelateria, right at the corner of Hanover Street near the Greenway. At first, we were turned off by the price - $4.95 for the only size cup they have. But then the magic hit us. First of all, the tiny little storefront is staffed by one woman and is literally carved out of a Citizen's Bank. Awkward but oh, so charming. Secondly, they let you get three flavors in a small cup. The flavor possibilities were endless. Kday tasted the pistachio (too sweet) and ultimately settled on vanilla, chocolate, and stracciatella ("white" ice cream with chocolate shavings). I chose to continue my hazelnut tradition and also chose chocolate and stracciatella to round out my cup. So much for endless flavor possibilities, but if I'm going to eat my way through Boston, I'm going to choose flavors I like.

Gigi doesn't have seating (unless you'd like to take a seat in the Citizen's Bank) so we headed straight to the greenway to eat. The gelato was smoooooth, creamy, and delightfully drippy, leading to a good deal of cup-licking (I'm looking at you, kday). Kday spilled on her pants too, but a bit of vanilla ice cream on the capris is a small price to pay for such an experience. The vanilla won out for most flavorful - lots of subtle flavors (clove? cinnamon?) overlaid by a powerful vanilla bean taste (I may not be able to sniff out things in wine, but I can do it in gelato, folks). The chocolate tasted like chocolate ice cream and less like the sinful stuff at Piattini, but the texture was great. The stracciatella was just like in Italy, although we are both a bit concerned about what kind of gelato "white" gelato is in the first place. It's not vanilla and it's not really anything else either. It was delicious nonetheless.

And look at this view: Who could ask for a more enjoyable gelato-eating experience? The spoons were small, but the gelato disappeared relatively quickly. (Eat your heart out, Athans). Despite our roundabout tour of the North End (in heels, on my part) we were both pleasantly surprised at the deliciousness that can come out of a Citizen's Bank storefront. So far, I would say that the Hazelnut and Vanilla win out at Gigi and the chocolate wins out at Piattini. We bite our thumbs at you, Athans, for advertising yourselves as a place to get good gelato and then selling gross stuff to unsuspecting law students who don't want to go downtown.

Good till the last slurp.

WTF is a blackcurrant??

At Athans yesterday, kday ordered blackcurrant gelato because it was pretty. Then she tasted it made a face. It was not a bad face, but rather a face that fully conveyed an intense and unexpected flavor experience. After she calmed down a little, we realized that neither one of us had ever heard of or tasted a blackcurrant. In the spirit of education, dear readers, I went on a side-quest to dig up some information on the blackcurrant.** You’re going to have to put up with these educational posts because, between the two of us, we’re two law students and a former teacher and think that learning things is almost as important as eating gelato (almost).

So. The blackcurrant is a small berry that grows on a bush. It is well suited to growing in the British climate and was consumed regularly during World War II as a source of Vitamin C when other sources of Vitamin C (like oranges) became difficult to obtain. The reason for our collective confusion on the blackcurrant may have something to do with the fact that the U.S. banned the plants in the early 1900s after discovering they carried something called “white pine blister rust.” I don’t know what that is, but it sounds pretty scary and apparently threatened the logging industry. Today, some states still have a ban on growing blackcurrants but they’re making a resurgence in others.

In addition to their use in Athans gelato, blackcurrants are the primary ingredient in foreign delicacies like crème de cassis, kir, Rote Grütze, and Ribena. In my humble opinion, Ribena is incredibly disgusting and crème de cassis is quite tasty, which demonstrates the versatility of this fruit. There are also jams, jellies, and sauces to be made out of blackcurrants. Apparently, lots of foreign-made blackcurrant foods are labeled “grape” here, because we Americans just can’t be bothered with crazy berries.

Apparently the blackcurrant is a “superfood” with all sorts of health benefits. Blackcurrants contain a rare Omega-6 essential fatty acid called Gamma Linoleic Acid, which is used in treating depression, as well as packing quite the punch with four times the Vitamin C of oranges and twice the potassium of bananas. I hope that kday is feeling fully super today as a result of all this healthy goodness in her cup of gelato.

Wikipedia described the flavor of blackcurrants as “astringent.” I was under the impression that astringent was something you dabbed on your face with a cotton ball and was not aware that you were supposed to eat things that tasted like face product. Perhaps this is why kday made such a spectacular face.

In conclusion, even though blackcurrants are the primary ingredient in Ribena (gross) and have something to do with astringent (troubling), they are excellent for you and apparently saved Britain from Vitamin C deficiency during WWII. If you are in the mood for a wild cup of gelato and some nutrients to boot, head down to Athans and check it out for yourself.

** Full disclosure: Most of this information came from Wikipedia. Don’t judge. 

Athan's in Washington Square

This evening, the quest took us to Athan's in Washington Square. This neighborhood favorite is well known for its coffee and pastries. This was both of our first experience with Athan's gelato.

Our initial thoughts about Athan’s were positive. There was a wide selection of flavors and the staff was incredibly helpful. Our waitress—errrrr gelato scooper—even let us get two flavors in the small size cup when

the sign on the counter explicitly says that small cups are for single flavors only. After sampling rose flavored gelato, which was not that good and tasted only of sugar, we paid our $3.16, and we took our two-flavor gelato cups to our table and started eating. Athan’s also scores points for its patience when I paid with two $2 bills.

Melanie ordered praline and hazelnut. While the flavor of the praline was good, Melanie did not like the texture. The gelato was not perfectly smooth; rather, there were unidentified gritty parts which were not to her liking. The hazelnut was tasty but the texture presented more of the same problem. Melanie strongly preferred Piattini’s hazelnut gelato. My blackcurrant gelato had an intense flavor, although I then realized that I had no idea how blackcurrants are supposed to taste, so I have no opinion as to whether the flavor was authentic. The flavor was good, but ultimately, it was a bit overwhelming. I would not have been able to eat an entire serving of blackcurrant gelato. The tiramisu gelato was overly boozy, and left me wishing that I had ordered the tiramisu sitting in their pastry display case instead. Athan’s did have full-sized spoons, which allowed us to shovel large quantities of gelato into our mouths quickly, but sadly, the taste of the gelato did not generate enough enthusiasm for us to need the larger sized spoons. Both of us had uneaten gelato at the end of this quest.

As one of the more reasonably priced gelato shops and so conveniently located to our humble abodes, we had high hopes for Athan’s. But after this quest, if I wanted gelato, I would get on the T and head back to Piattinis.

Gelato: A Quick History of a Tasty Treat

On our first quest, sitting on Newbury St. on a crisp Sunday-afternoon, we felt like ladies who lunch. However, sitting there, eating our delicious gelato, we realized that we didn't know very much about the treat. Of course, it's not ice cream---but what are the differences? What is the history of gelato? Alas--a quick history lesson, readers (if we have any at this point).

While the history of gelato is not known exactly, it is believed that China first invented a frozen dessert using fruit, shaved ice, or mountain snow. These first frozen treats were not ice cream because there was no diary. Enter Italy to remedy this. Frozen fruit and ice treats are good, but gelato is better. Thank you, Italy.

Two distinct frozen treats came from Italy: sorbet in the south and gelato in the north. In the south, the frozen treat was water-based with a higher sugar content but less fat. Called sorbetto in Italian, it is now known as sorbet in English. In the Dolomite region of the Alps in northern Italy, however, the wise-Italians added diary and gelato was born. Gelato was made with milk, sugar, eggs, and natural flavors. Again, thank you, (northern) Italy.

As we quest around Boston, we are thinking that walking a few steps from a T station to a gelato shop is not enough physical exercise to burn off the calories we consume during each tasting. However, as gelato is made with milk rather than cream, like ice cream, this tasty treat is much less caloric than ice cream. Thus, as you follow along with us on this quest, perhaps we will not have to purchase new jeans or settle for only wearing elastic-waisted pants. Of course, if we sample all of these flavors, even the lower calorie count might not save us.

Piattini Cafe and Gelateria (Newbury Street)

Our first questing stop, Piattini on Newbury Street, was the most expensive on our list ($4.99 for a small gelato) but had a pretty funky flavor selection and a charming location. Although there was no indoor seating for gelato purchasers (it's also a restaurant - we assume they save the seats for people who order real food), we found a table outdoors that we were able to sit at, undisturbed. We even heard an operatic rendition of "Happy Birthday" emanating from the restaurant as a bonus.

Upon our arrival, an incredibly helpful gelato man allowed us to taste Basil, Sweet Potato, and Mango.

All three flavors were absolutely delicious.  The basil was sweet and basil-y, a refreshing and unexpected flavor. The sweet potato was reminiscent of pumpkin and had a creamy consistency. The mango was also delicious, but we ultimately decided to order "small" cups of Chocolate-Peanut Butter, Nocciola (Hazelnut), and Scuro (dark chocolate). We'll have to save eating an entire cup of a wacky flavor for when we're a little more experienced at this. Kday, purchaser of the Chocolate-Peanut Butter, was a bit disappointed.  Her gelato seemed dry and crumbly and the flavor was not particularly sweet or chocolatey. The hazelnut was an improvement, though its texture was a bit grainy.

The winner, by a long shot, was the scuro - apparently Piattini's most popular flavor. It tasted like brownie batter, but cold and without that pesky risk of salmonella.  It was much runnier than the other flavors, and there was some un-ladylike licking of the cup (not pictured) before I got the situation under control. After discovering the nocciola-and-scuro-on-one-spoon taste sensation, I was reluctant to share my spoils with Kday (but I did, of course).

Piattini gets good marks for their adventurous flavors, their operatic waitstaff, and their amazing scuro gelato. They lose points for lack of indoor seating, high prices, depressing chocolate-peanut butter gelato, and for providing us with impossibly small spoons. Though the tiny spoons made the entire experience feel a bit classier and more European, they were not useful when it came to the main goal of the excursion (namely, eating a lot of gelato rather quickly).

Despite the drawbacks it was, all in all, a successful kickoff to the fall quest!

A quest!

After our spectacularly successful cupcake quest last year we decided to join forces one more time for another Beantown adventure. Kday, inspired by the Boston Globe, suggested a gelato quest. I, part Italian gelato monster and part procrastinator, agreed that this quest deserved our immediate attention. We have decided to start with the most expensive gelato on the list and today we will be kicking off the quest at Piattini Cafe and Gelateria on Newbury Street.  The Globe says they have dark chocolate and sea salt flavors, which sound delectable. Updates to come!