Going to Rita’s for frozen Italian ice. Absolutely stellar. I perked up like a wilted flower after it has been watered and breathed upon by a kind human whispering sweet nothings into its leaves. It was a hot, still day and going to Rita’s was the best decision in it.
Moving up the hill into Northeast DC, I found Rita’s at Rhode Island and 24th. When I walked up to order, there was a jovial group of middle-aged residents in orange T-shirts milling around, grinning broadly. “What could this be?” I say to myself. “A sporty cult?”
No, silly. Of course, these are a group of people celebrating their 30th high school reunion by handing out orange balloons to Rita’s customers. Of course. At the bar, clutching my balloons, I made the all important decision: the order. No more free samples. Such finality. All the other possibilities for this instance in time are gone. But I think I chose wisely. The gelati is Italian ice with custard on top and it was just a delight in all possible ways. The ice melts faster than the custard, giving you a perfect blend of melty and creamy. Oh hell, you wouldn’t understand–you weren’t there! Don’t look at me like that!
Going to Rita’s is sure to provide you with a similar experience. Free balloons cannot, of course, be guaranteed, but you will be satisfied. Take your hot self down to a location near (or, preferably, get out of Northwest and go somewhere else) you.