Wow, That’s Really Good!

I remember an encounter had during a visit to Paris 20 years ago. I stopped in a tiny ice cream shop looking for a bit of relief on a muggy summer day. To my disappointment, it was not air conditioned. And what’s more, the youthful server was dressed in full suit and tie, dancing to disco music as he dished ice-cream. Okay, I thought, this is a rather odd mix of elements for a tiny, worn at the heels, but nonetheless charming ice-cream shop.
I waited my turn, and got to see the ice-cream as I came to the front of the line. In well worn freezer displays was a small but delightful assortment of colors and flavors. I made my selection, ordered the largest size on the menu (still disappointingly small for an American used to super-sized portions) and watched as it was prepared. The man in the disco suit bopped to the music as he filled a small cup with plum-flavored ice-cream. I paid for the order and began to taste.
All the while, French disco guy stared at me with a big grin on his face. “Well?” He asked in his heavily accented English. “Well?” He asked a bit more impatiently. “Well, what?” I responded in puzzlement, not knowing what he was trying to say. “Well, what do you think,” he burst, gesturing broadly towards the cup I had in my hand. “The ice cream, it is the best you have ever had, yes?”
Indeed, it was. The flavor was subtle and genuinely fruity rather than cloyingly sweet. It was softer,and served at a higher temperature than what is common in the US. And it was really, really good. So, I heartily agreed. “Yes, it is the best ice-cream I ever had!” Laughing, the French proprieter smiled in a self-congratulatory way. He then proceeded to mock the “frozen bricks” that Americans sell as ice-cream (in that way that only the French can). “You cannot have any subtle flavors, you keep it too cold!” He declared. “That’s why your ice-cream is so full of sugar, no flavor!” The French man in the disco suit gesticulated wildly as he expressed his passion for good ice-cream in broken English.
During that conversation I learned that he was a third generation ice-cream maker, running a small business that had been in his family for over 40 years. What came through crystal clear, despite his flawed english, was a love for his craft, and pride in delivering a good product. I’ve long forgotten the name of that tiny ice-cream shop, but the lesson I learned that day has always stuck with me. Always strive to create something you can be proud of. Whatever it is, take pride in your work. Master your craft.




