Big Gay Ice Cream Isn't Flamboyant Enough

Big Gay Ice Cream Shop - West Village
61 Grove Street, New York, NY 10014

Disclaimer: this post is missing any scrap of political correctness yet intends to offend no one. Cheer up; we're talking about ice cream.


As frigid winds blow out of the city and make way for spring breezes, new fashions pop up, spirits lift, and food cravings emerge from hibernation. Winter is about hearty dishes--hot soups, heavy sauces, and wholesome carbs--but spring brings salads, fruits, and ice cream. 

I have been meaning to try Big Gay Ice Cream since last summer after hearing it mentioned in every ice cream article and word of mouth whisper. As soon as April hit and the temperature crept up to a palatable 50+ degrees, ice cream no longer seemed an absurd notion for an out-on-the-town dessert.

The little shop belongs in the West Village. With such overblown store fronts all over the area, my friend and I walked right past the giant unicorn on the window pane on our first attempt at locating the parlor.

At the risk of offending, well, everyone, I must say: Big Gay Ice Cream just didn't seem gay enough. I'm sure you could bash me from both sides on political correctness when I say this, but I was expecting Big Gay Ice Cream to glimmer with fairy dust glitter, stock colorful ice cream balls, or at least boast a heavily decorated interior. Sure, there was a unicorn on the window, and the ice cream names possessed a twang of gay humor. Nevertheless, the store did not meet my expectations of flamboyancy.

The ice cream didn't quite meet expectations, either. Admittedly, I had built this up in my mind, so when I was served nothing but vanilla soft serve with a few toppings, I felt let down. The ice cream was creamy and smooth--a well curated soft serve--and no one was stingy with the chocolate-coated toppings. However, at the end I just felt unsatisfied and sticky. (Insert gay joke here).

I'd like to go back, though. I probably just need to accept Big Gay Ice Cream for exactly what it is--good soft serve--and lick my way through the West Village this summer. 

Grom's Whipped Cream Is Like Crack

Grom - West Village

233 Bleeker St., New York, NY 10014

While out with a friend, I ran into an acquaintance in the West Village. When he heard we were scoping out dessert options, he pointed to a well-lit shop on the corner. This man is a clean-cut southern gentleman and music composer, so his words surprised me:

"Order the whipped cream--it's like crack cocaine." (His words, not mine.)

Obviously, I did. 

Grom is a gelateria. Presumably their gelato is great, but on a mild winter eve I ordered a small hot [dark] chocolate with whipped cream. The cocoa is not for the faint of heart. My friend and her mom ordered a small, and between the two of them they did not make it halfway through the cup. It's not because it's bad--it's simply so rich. The viscous cocoa coats the sides of the cup and lingers on the plastic spoon. The whipped cream is just as pure. As though scraped off a spatula, the whipped cream hangs off the side of the cup. It didn't fall in or drip down--only the bottom slowly melted away, forming white rings in the black sea beneath. 

While I did manage to finish my cup, I feel that the optimal way to enjoy Grom's delights would be to have an espresso-sized hot cocoa with whipped cream and a single scoop of vanilla gelato. As I've learned, it's the best balancing act. 

So, next time I must try the gelato. 

Otto is Like Being Wrapped In A Warm Italian Blanket

OTTO - Greenwich Village / Washington Square Park
1 Fifth Ave., New York, NY 10003

As a dining mate said, walking into Otto is like being wrapped in a warm Italian blanket. It was hollow and windy and freezing outside, and then I walked in to a heated, crowded, lively Italian restaurant with rusty orange walls. There were more children and families there than I'd seen in most restaurants of that size and caliber in New York. While I was duly impressed with the service--we had both a knowledgeable sommelier and a prompt and informative waiter--the food wasn't quite what I was expecting. My friend's pizza with egg was perfectly thin and fresh, made from the best dough, but the sauce hinted more strongly at tomato paste than fresh vine tomatoes in summer. I ordered the Goat Cheese Agnolotti, a fresh pasta dish with lemon, butter, and tiny pasta pillows of goat cheese The food was good, but the presentation lacked--anything. The dishes, garnish, plating--all lacked imagination.

But to be honest, the reason you come to Otto is for the homemade ice cream. Three scoops, though they seem small in their silver goblet, are more than enough to satisfy any sweet tooth. I ordered caramel, crème fraîche  and dark chocolate. The crème fraîche is made with eggs, so it is thicker and richer than the rest--and quite heavy. The caramel and dark chocolate were both exceptionally flavored and all three were remarkably smooth. I ordered a hazelnut hot cocoa, too, and it was one of the best I've had. Period. I wouldn't give the overall restaurant a five-star rating, but this restaurant is more than reasonably priced ($8 for three scoops of homemade gelato; $15 for homemade pasta) and very friendly. It's a good, solid find.