Another scoop

Saturday's supper at Pura Tierra, with temporary fellow Buenos Aires resident, dinner companion and jolly good fellow Joel, wrapped up about midnight. Because that is how we roll here. We decided an ice cream was in order. That is another example of the manner in which we roll.

We walked over to Persicco, a top contender for best ice cream chain. We told the man at the register what size cone we wanted, got our ticket to present at the ice cream counter, and discussed flavor possibilities while we waited for our number to be called.

Dan: "Just let me know if you have ice cream vocabulary questions."
Joel: "OK. What's bacciola?"
D: "I don't know."
J: "What's chocolate suizo?"
D: "I don't know."
J: "What's sandía?"
D: "OMG! I know this one. Watermelon."

Our number came up and I handed our ticket to the guy behind the counter, who stamped it as "served" and asked me what I wanted. I told him: One with banana and chocolate Persicco and the other with menta granizada and café.

He snapped at me a little bit: "One at a time. What's the first one?"

"I'd like banana and chocolate Persicco, please," I said.

No sooner had I told him than he ran away and disappeared down a flight of stairs.

After a minute or two, he came back.

He reached for a cone bigger than the one I had ordered and said, "Because you had to wait . . ."

He piled the cone high and then zipped over to one edge of the counter to the toppings bar. I saw him pick up a few things and plop them on the cone. Then he took a bottle of syrup and made two quick squirts. I definitely hadn't asked for any toppings and I couldn't see exactly what he was doing.

When he came back, he handed me the cone and Joel and I just about peed our pants laughing. The kid standing next to Joel had a big smile on his face as Joel whipped out his cell phone to take a priceless photo.

Best. Ice cream cone. Ever.