I have trouble with pistacchio.

My Italian true love thinks I’m set in my ways. When it comes to imbibing gelato, the Italian version of ice cream. I always order stracciatella. One scoop. Two scoops. Three scoops. In cups. The size depends on my appetite. And I eat slowly. With a tiny plastic spoon. In order to savor every bit. Stracciatella is vanilla ice cream with chocolate chips. I like the word stracciatella. Sounds so Italian. And I claim to have learned to pronounce it without an American accent. Though my true love tells me otherwise. I could pass for a full-blooded Italian gentleman when I roll the word off my prolific tongue. Believe me. Anyway, my true love encourages me to try other flavors. But I insist on nothing but the best. All the time. I won’t settle for second best when it comes to gelato and true love. I remind my true love that she may be stuck in a rut, too. She almost always opts for pistacchio. I have trouble pronouncing pistacchio. –Jim Broede