Angelato Calling

She was img_1607-customa seductive mistress who knew what I needed, calling to me as I walked past, begging me to enter and partake of her sugary delights. Rarely did I disappoint.

Set back from the busy road, Angelato, situated halfway along Chavchavadze Avenue, in the fashionable district of Vake was easily Tbilisi’s best ice-cream parlour. Not only did it offer a plethora of flavours and combinations, sauces and accoutrements, but also the smooth illy coffee that made for a wonderful cappuccino in that thriving metropolis.

I was there so often that the counter girls could almost have been considered family; distant family possibly, but family nonetheless. Over the months they learned to recognise me, smiled and giggled at my broken Georgian and committed to memory the combinations that I favoured – black-cherry and banana, coffee and chocolate or possibly the pistachio and pineapple. Each time they whispered and tittered behind raised hands and, whilst I recognised a few words, they were never enough to understand their conversation. Maybe they were taking bets on which three scoops I would be choosing that day – I’ll never know. However, on the occasions when I sat at one of the clean chrome tables, all bets were off. It was the choco-mint deluxe every time.

I’m no longer in Georgia, and the country and people who I quickly grew to love are thousands of kilometres away, but they and the call of my sweet, sweet mistress still have me gazing eastwards…grumpy-writer-sig

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