Today, I am gelatofull.
First time I’ve ever said that in my life. And damn, it feels good—like summer finally sat down beside me and sighed.
Gianduja? Eh. Didn’t live up to the dream I built for it. Too sweet. It’s supposed to be less sweet than Nutella no? But it’s more.
Rocher? Pretty, pretty good—like that friend who never disappoints but never quite surprises either.
But pistachio—oh, pistachio!—came out of nowhere and stole the show. I don’t even like pistachio gelato, but this one? This one melted into perfection.
Vanilla tried, but it leaned too heavy on the cream, not enough of that pure, fragrant vanilla soul. Still, I can’t stay mad at it.
So yeah. That’s today. The day I met my limit.
The day I learned what it feels like to be gelato-full.