I got lucky with this place. I happened to glance at the New York Times a couple of days before we left for Philly to visit our friend Gilles, and stumbled upon a glowing review. When we got there, it was Gilles’ birthday and blazing hot outside: hello, ice cream parlor!
And hello, best ice cream of my life. It’s been two years since I was here, and I can still taste the maple syrup. If you find yourself in Philadelphia this summer, grab some cash (they don’t take plastic), get in line (it’s packed), and get ready for a dish of heaven.