Everything goes better with pear gelato: night trip to Piccomolo

http://blogging.la/archives/images/2007/10/piccomolo-thumb.JPGLast night while strolling Westwood, I ran across this gelato joint. I am always up for a gelato and especially one that fills you with a feeling of superiority as you stroll in and get to leisurely choose among a bajillion flavors of home-made sorbet and gelato when right across the street too many Uggs-clad UCLA-ites are waiting in a snakey line for their Pinkberry fix.

(Gelato porn courtesy of Ken Justice after the jump. Click ’em to make ’em even bigger. Mmmm….big gelato…)

http://blogging.la/archives/images/2007/10/Gelato3-thumb.jpgPiccomolo gelato dude, whose hand you see in this picture was super nice and kept passing over sample after sample to me so I can say with some authority that it’s all pretty yummy. In the end, I got pear and melon sorbet and Ken got wild cherry gelato. It’s no foie gras ice cream I know, but it was fresh and delish. And there was no line. http://blogging.la/archives/images/2007/10/gelato1-thumb.jpg

So if you’re in the neighborhood for a trip to the Hammer or a pick-up from the Flyaway or the like, and you’re contemplating the Pinkberry line, I recommend walking across the street. You’ll get to sample a half dozen flavors and chances are you’ll be subjected to far less second-hand insipidness.

1146 Westwood Blvd.
LA 90024

7 thoughts on “Everything goes better with pear gelato: night trip to Piccomolo”

  1. Mmmmm. Gelato. There is nothing better than those beautiful rows of handmade yumminess. Even in the middle of January in Rome, we had to have gelato. Once in Florence, my traveling backpack buddies and I had gelato 3 times in one hot summer’s day.

    I will head over there, thank you Travis. (And Ugo in Culver City has a gelato bar now too.)

  2. piccomolo looks like a rapidly-expanding franchise chain. among others, there are locations in old town pasadena and little tokyo. looks like the website is out-of-date — it doesn’t include the westwood location.

    the gelato is good.

  3. Thanks for the reminder about Ugo, Julia. I read that but I haven’t checked it out yet. By the way, there’s a lesser-known yummy Italian place around the corner on Main, Novecento, that’s really sweet.

  4. People still wear Uggs? Dear lord, I thought that trend had died. I guess college campus dwellers are a little out of touch? Send them a memo.

  5. Not sure where you live, Bree, but I can guarantee it’s nowhere on the West Side which is lousy with Uggs-clad girly girls sporting big purses with little dogs in them.

  6. Even out here in the American Outback, where all things Aussie or made from hide are fetishized, Uggs have been relegated to the back of the closet to await their reincarnation as “retro-yeti.” If you’re coming to Santa Fe for some rockin gelato (I recommend the lavender), leave ’em home. And your little dog, too.
    But, um, even though it feels a little dirty to ask, what’s a pinkberry?

  7. Ah my dear New Mexican, Pinkberry is to yogurt what True Religion is to blue jeans and the iPhone is to handhelds. Which is to say we Angelenos delight in lining up to pay too much for it. I personally can say it tastes not much like anything except “more please.” Subtraction stew if you will.

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