The European Gelato Conundrum

I recently went to Spain.  I saw Madrid, I saw Ibiza, I saw Barcelona and as is my tradition, I didn't see set foot in any cathedrals.  However, after spending ten days in Spain, I'm left with one burning question: why can't the US get gelato right?  Seriously, for all the money that's being thrown around for frozen treats during the dog days of summer, no one wants to step up and just figure out what, exactly, they're putting in this stuff across the Atlantic?  No fewer than five new ice cream shops have sprung up in my neighborhood of Brooklyn alone in the last year, and not one of them has gelato on the menu.  The only place with "gelato" is a small stand outside of a pizza place that serves their "gelato" in small paper cups that generally fall apart and can only hold a maximum of two scoops of their pale imitation.  In Madrid, I was able to get a heaping cup with chocolate, pistachio and coconut gelato scooped on top of each other, and a solid transport system that could carry it while I strolled through the city streets, eating it at my leisure.

It's not as if America has a problem with treats that are fattening.  We are a culture that keeps Paula Deen in the money as she shows us how to fry up whole sticks of butter, or make a deluxe hamburger with Krispy Kreme donuts serving as a bun.  We aren't afraid of few calories, and those of us who are go to Tasti D-Lite, a self-described "frozen treat."  So serve it up, America.  I want all of the creamy goodness that I get in my Eurpean gelato to be imported directly to Brooklyn.  Frankly, I would prefer my tax dollars be spent on this task than supporting organizations like the Boy Scouts.  Make it happen.