PALERMO, Italy -- Sicilians are known for taking art forms like Baroque architecture and elevating them to their highest or wildest levels. On a hot summer's day in Sicily, however, art is served in a cup, cone, or brioche.
Here, gelato (Italian for frozen) is the all-encompassing term that covers ice cream, sorbet, and granita , and their best creations can transport you directly to a pistachio grove at the base of Mount Etna or place a perfect strawberry on the tip of your tongue.
It may boil Neapolitan blood to think it, but on a hunt for the best gelato in the world, all roads might lead to Sicily.
A Sicilian "giro del gelato," or gelato tour, is not only a beautiful excuse to visit the island , but also a way to understand why the frozen confection is more than a summertime treat, why it is a rite that links its inhabitants with their land, their fellow Sicilians, and the past.
They are demanding customers. A gelateria that is not up to snuff will be empty while a neighboring stand will have a crowd spilling out the door. Asked if he has any competition in the town of Cinisi , master pastry chef, chocolatier, and ice cream fanatic Santi Palazzolo flashes a modest grin.
"I did."
"We eat a lot of gelato," he says. "People eat it every day from the morning into the night."
Palazzolo is not exaggerating. A typical Sicilian breakfast consists of a brioche filled with granita (think: Slushee from heaven), washed down with a tiny shot of nuclear-grade coffee. Later in the day, people may finish their lunch with a cone, enjoy it as an afternoon snack, make it part of their evening walk, or have it as a midnight treat.
"It's 40 percent of our summertime income," Palazzolo says, and considering that his pastry shop is one of Italy's best, that is no mean feat. In summer, his gelato is such a popular late-night treat that he keeps the shop open until 2 a.m.
Ask where this ingrained, round-the-clock habit comes from and Palazzolo will look puzzled.
"We had snow on Mount Etna and beneath it grew fruit like lemon and oranges," he says, "Arabs in Catania used it to create sorbet."
This is Palazzolo's polite way of explaining that it's not a habit, it's a way of life.
On the opposite end of the island in the beautiful Baroque town of Noto is Corrado Assenza , part pastry chef and gelato master, part philosopher. At Caffè Sicilia , gelato is one of the tools he uses to connect Sicilians to the ground beneath their feet.
The lessons of the gelato maker go far beyond getting something cool and tasty into his customers' mouths. There's a pared-down perfection to Assenza's creations that is a quirky contrast with his town's elaborate architecture.
