On my way out of town, Elyse took me to Angelo Brocato for gelato. Here we were greeted by the freakin’ cutest espresso lady ever:

And the prettiest bakery case ever:

From their website:
“A century ago, 12-year-old Angelo Brocato began an apprenticeship in one of Palermo, Italy’s elegant ice cream parlors where he learned the special recipes for the world’s finest desserts. It was the beginning of a saga that would eventually take him to America and the realization of a dream – the establishment of his own ice cream parlor.
As a young immigrant in a new land, Angelo worked for a short while on a sugar plantation, saving his money until he could open a tiny ice cream shop in New Orleans’s French Quarter. Still not satisfied, Angelo worked even harder and, in 1905, opened Angelo Brocato’s Ice Cream Parlor, a replica of Palermo’s finest emporiums and one of the city’s first sit-down parlors…. The present-day Brocato family, the third generation to run the business, are proud to carry on this New Orleans tradition as they begin the second century of Angelo Brocato’s dream.”

To which I say: Damn, that was some yummy Watermelon Gelato.

Angelo Brocato Ice Cream & Confectionery, Inc.
214 N. Carrollton Avenue
New Orleans, LA 70119

And on the telephone pole opposite the entrance to Brocato’s someone had posted this this sign:

And it is true. Thank you, New Orleans.