Credit: Kathy Chan |
When I cut each one in half so Maisie and I could try each others', it barely squished out of the sides. This was a far cry from the oozing, bulging, lick-it-before-it-drips-down-your-hand glory of La Sorbetteria in Bologna (more to come on that soon), where Maisie and I first bonded as juniors studying abroad. Not a promising start.
The gelato, as you may be able to tell from the picture, is rather icy. The flavors are decent, sweet and clear (as you may know from reading this blog, I'm not entirely averse to iciness in an ice cream or gelato, but in this case it felt stingy and compromising), but nothing special. The honey drizzled on top of the ricotta was a nice touch, but the brioche was well past its prime, and didn't soak up the ice cream in the way that makes a brioche ice cream sandwich such a win-win proposition.
When the manager came out and saw eight shards of half-eaten brioche on our plates, he solicited our opinions. We shrugged and politely mumbled some sentence fragments. "A little icy." "Brioche kind of stale." "Usually there's more." He very kindly offered them on the house, acknowledging that we hadn't truly enjoyed them, and therefore shouldn't have to pay for them. He also predicted that Friday, yesterday, would be the cart's final day, so let this post serve as a eulogy. $6, Mia Dona, 206 East 58th St, 212-750-8170, www.miadona.com
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