Cafe Paradiso

On Thursday, Kday and I met in the North End to test Cafe Paradiso's gelato. We arrived at the cafe to find several men speaking Italian and watching sports on television. It felt pretty authentic even though the decor of the cafe oscillated between sporty:

(Go ... Albania?) and seriously strange:

For those of you who are confused, this is part of a (real) tree with witches hanging on it. I know we're in Massachusetts and I know it's close to Halloween, but I just don't know how I feel about this bit of decor. There was also a fully stocked bar (seven flavors of limoncello anyone?) staffed by a middle-aged Asian bartender, which you just don't see a lot in the North End.

We sat down and received menus. We asked the waitress how many flavors we could get per order and she told us that there was only one size available and that it included three scoops, each the size of a golf ball. Twist my arm. I ordered Nocciola (hazelnut, per tradition), cappucino, and vanilla. Kday, in a leap of faith, had chosen tiramisu (which looked a bit pre-chewed) and "cookie creme" (which looked like cookies and cream ice cream but only if you were squinting). For her third scoop, Kday asked the waitress for her favorite flavor. The waitress recommended, "zuppa inglese," which contained vanilla gelato, rum, strawberries, and panettone. Kday paid no mind to the fact that the name means "English Soup," which sounds revolting, and includes several ingredients that don't sound like they belong together. Bold choice, questing buddy.

Despite small-but-metal spoons and whimsical parfait glasses, our gelato surprised the heck out of us for being not three golf ball sized scoops, but three baseball sized scoops:

Whoa, nellie. Talk about ruining your dinner.

The vanilla gelato had a nice consistency, but it was nothing to write home about. Gigi is still the winner on the vanilla front. The cappucino was delightful and, according to the menu, award-winning. The nocciola was the best I've had yet. I thought, after Athans, that I would be morally opposed to non-smooth hazelnut gelato, but the nocciola at Cafe Paradiso proved me wrong. While the Athans "chunks" were really some species of almost-but-not-quite pulverized hazelnut, the chunks in this nocciola were real chunks and were, therefore, acceptable. There was also some sort of caramel ribbon, which was a nice counterpart to the chunks.

Kday's tiramisu was excellent, despite looking pre-chewed. It wasn't too boozy but still had a rum flavor and tasted like a gelato version of the real thing. The "cookie creme" tasted "like a blended oreo" and therefore got rave reviews from the chocolate monster who ordered it. The third scoop, the mysterious zuppa inglese, was our least favorite in the dish. It tasted a lot like rum (in addition to ruining her dinner, kday risked getting seriously sauced with two baseball-sized scoops of boozy gelato) and the cinnamon in the pannetone clashed horribly with the strawberries. Blech. Way to lead us astray, otherwise-nice-waitress.

Despite our best intentions, neither of us succeeded in eating our own weight in gelato. Even though we didn't clean our dishes, we were feeling pretty good about the whole experience. And then we got the check. The menu didn't include a price for the one-size-only gelato serving and, what with being so overwhelmed by the decor, we didn't ask the waitress either (mistake).

So when the check came and we each owed $6.98 (plus tip) we were understandably peeved. What gives, Cafe Paradiso? You expect us to pay $7 for the only size of gelato you have? Without telling us? And when your flavors include boring ones (vanilla) and gross ones (english soup)? And when you're hanging witches from a tree next to our table? If it weren't for your tiramisu and your nocciola, I would bite my thumb at you. As it is, I'm quite miffed and probably not coming back. If we do come back, Kday and I will share one dish of gelato and there's nothing you can do about it. And your English Soup flavor is gross. So there.