Hashtag It’s Not Gelato: Utopia Ice Is Back In Sumner

Mandy, Sebastian, (and we can’t forget Levin!)’s astonishingly good ice-cream (not gelato) is back in Sumner. Except this time, it’s housed in the most dreamiest location ever. At 15 Wakefield Avenue you’ll find a tranquil courtyard filled with happiness. Happiness being a large wooden swing chair, flamingo cushions, strawberry plants, Belgian waffles (yes, real Belgian waffles), of course ice-cream, and much more! With 16 ever-changing flavours to choose from, Cantabrians, this is the place to spend our ever glorious upcoming summer days.

Before you ask, my favourite is dark chocolate, coconut, and cacao nibs (gf, df, V) so see you there!

Hours:
Monday: Closed
Tuesday: 11 to 6
Wednesday: 11 to 6
Thursday: 11 to 6
Friday: 11 to 9
Saturday: 11 to 9
Sunday: 11 to 6

Old Ways Won’t Open New Doors

Tried this before? Coconut yoghurt with turmeric and mango. It has been surprisingly hot. I have been enjoying eating outside in the sun and in the space of a few days, I have gone from no job, well 1/2 job (freelancing for Savvy Tokyo) to 2 and 1/2 jobs. The first is to do with the education of 5-10 year olds. That’s pretty much all I can say without breaching privacy rules. And the second is serving delicious homemade organic gelato, vegan sorbets, and coconut ice-cream for the freakishly talented Utopia Ice. Hashtag life-as-a-wannabe-writer.

Plum and earl grey. Yes, earl grey! CHCH friends, you know where to get your ice-cream fix this ice-cream-weather long weekend ;)
FINISHED. This one is my favourite (so far). I really related to Heidi. She, a real writer, me, a wannabe writer – let’s just say reading it, I had numerous: “for real? ME too!” moments.

Today my mom, my sister and I (dad, God bless him, was working as usual) had a Persian breakfast for lunch. Persians eat bread and feta cheese (here sprinkled with cumin powder) with vegetables like cucumber and tomato (the avocado is a personal addition) with herbs and nuts. And sometimes watermelon makes an appearance, too. Washed down with black cardamom tea. Until the age of seven, all I knew of breakfast was the Persian kind. When we arrived in NZ, I was introduced to cereal for the first time. Also sliced bread. We never had that in Iran. Our bread was huge and round and I had to line up for it with my mom. It would come out of a large round oven filled with little stones. Sometimes, if we were lucky (or so I thought back then) our bread would have one of these stones attached to it. This was my childhood. Walking down the street on my tippy toes, scanning the bread my mother held for lucky stones.

LOL! This Is Gold.

My feelings (by that I mean pure jealousy) towards hot-shot bloggers who “travel”. Yeah yeah, they worked hard for it, too. Whatever.

WHY I QUIT MY JOB TO TRAVEL THE WORLD

By Joe Veix, JUNE 6, 2016

On paper, my life seemed great. I had a dream job, a swanky apartment, and a loving girlfriend. But something was off. I couldn’t bear being chained to my desk in a stuffy office any longer. So I decided to quit and travel the world, bringing only my passport, a small backpack, and my enormous trust fund.

My co-workers were shocked. How could I so casually throw away everything I fought so hard to achieve? But I don’t expect everyone to “get” me. I’m a free spirit, whose father owns a South American rubber empire.

I set to work packing my bag and throwing out most of my possessions. Whatever didn’t bring me joy went straight in the trash. You don’t need to own a lot of “stuff” to be happy, especially when you can buy whatever you later realize that you need with your massive inheritance.

Then I reserved a business-class seat, sent a quick text message to my girlfriend telling her that I was leaving the country forever, and was off.

My first few months roaming the world were life-changing. Every day, I updated my Instagram with photos of my favorite sights: cones filled with scoops of glistening gelato; my hand lightly resting on a café table, near an early edition of “On the Road”; selfies of me hugging depressed tigers too stoned on sedatives to drown themselves. Still, I needed to see more. My wanderlust had turned me into a wanderslut.

As a citizen of the world, I rarely get lonely. Everywhere I go, I meet such diverse groups of people. In hostels, I’ve shared beers with friendly British and Australian twenty-somethings. In hotels, I’ve sipped wine with friendly British and Australian forty-somethings. We all became lifelong friends, despite the language barriers.

Once, outside the train station of a small fishing village, I met a humble man named Greebo who sold flowers and various cheap trinkets for a living. Unburdened by the trappings of modern life, his hospitality was unlike anything I’ve ever encountered in the States. Greebo was happy to open up to me about his life, as long as I kept buying roses. Intrigued by our easy chatter, some of his friends wandered over to join the conversation. All of our superficial differences soon melted away. Inside, we are just human beings, after all, exchanging a powerful global currency.

As I left town, I cast one final glance back at Greebo. One of his friends playfully tossed him to the ground and thumbed his eyes as the others snatched all the money I had given him. I couldn’t help but smile. It felt good to make a difference in the lives of these simple people.

Of course, this “no reservations” life style isn’t for everyone. In many ways, it’s harder than the old corporate grind. Many stores don’t accept my Centurion card. Sometimes it’s difficult to get even one bar of cell service, which makes Instagramming more gelato a real struggle.

But don’t worry about me! Whenever I start to get homesick, I remember the old rat race and shudder. All those bleary-eyed suckers packed into the subway, going to their lousy jobs, wasting their whole lives to afford useless things like “rent” and “health insurance” and “student-loan payments.”

That life style isn’t for me. Maybe I’m just a crazy dreamer who also gets a monthly no-strings-attached sixty thousand dollars deposited into my checking account, but I won’t be tied down so easily.

gelato experts of hashimoto farm

A few weeks ago, as I was scrolling through pictures tagged with #gelato on instagram (as you do) I came across the most delicious looking (and probably tasting from the way it was looking) double scoop cone AND to my delight it was sold in Tottori which is only about 1 and half hours drive from my home in Ohara. Yesterday, my cousin (who was staying with me for a couple days) and me ventured to Hashimoto gelato farm – where there were no cows but definitely loads of gelato. Hashimoto gelateria is situated in a cute small cottage and served by an even more adorable elderly Japanese couple. Inside, directly above the gelato counter, a large frame proudly deems said husband and wife as successful graduates of Gelato University of Rome – what has life come to? Where is this University and WTH did I waste three years of my life studying a BA when I could have graduated from a life of gelato?! GELATO.

The labels were in Japanese leaving us to guess the gelato flavours which is harder than you think; when there are Japanese inspired flavours such as black soy bean (which looks like chocolate chip) and sour plum (which looks like strawberry). Nevertheless,  I chose Ferrero Rocher and white peach and my cousin copied by choosing Ferrero Rocher as well and grapefruit – which to his surprise tasted “just like grapefruit!”, well no shit sherlock. As we sat outside savouring every mouthful (the gelato was divine; not sickly sweet as some ice cream can be) overlooking the picturesque Japanese countryside, an elderly Japanese man (80s/90s) in a straw hat and denim overalls rode past on his bicycle.

review no32 cocogarden

Stop what you’re doing for I have just stumbled upon the sole reason I may decide to stay in Japan for the entirety of my life. Yes, forever. Nestled deep within the picturesque woods of rural Japan, Cocogarden is every foodie’s haven.

First off, you know it’s gonna be good when you arrive at 9.45, the place doesn’t even open until 10am and there’s already the biggest line you have ever seen, ever, waiting to get inside.

Pancakes
Gelato
Shu cream (Japanese custard filled cream puffs)
Smoothies
Partfaits
Coffee
and more
but wait for it…
Organic.
Yes, it’s all organic and of the highest quality so oh my goodness, I can’t even.

In addition to mouthwateringly fluffy pancakes, my favourite details included the tall glass windows (see above) with a great view onto the mountains, their extensive gift shop (filled with endless goodies: puddings, tarts and cakes), the gelato caravan out front (which has asparagus gelato, yes asparagus) and the staff’s uniform!

For more info, head to their website here.

THANK ME LATER!

I walked 21.2km for this gelato

There are as many ice-cream/gelato places in Auckland as there are people and there are a lot of people here, especially in comparison to CHCH. Fortunately, Mother Nature has been in a delightful mood during my little Auckland adventure, kindly turning up the dial on ‘ice cream weather’ to maximum. Now, I’m not the type of gal to indulge in any old ice-cream. Yes, there’s several Kapiti joints around but I can get that back home from the supermarket and the same goes for the million Movenpick outlets. But the homemade gelato from St. Heliers Bay Cafe & Bistro, now that’s worth walking 21.2km for (round-trip). Yesterday, my best friend Natasha who resides in the City of Sails (Auckland) and I walked from the CBD to St Heliers Bay. The journey was tedious. Our legs were sore, our chests were sun-burnt and our throats were dry but we eventually made it and oh boy was it worth it. Sorry, I already said that didn’t I? Natasha ordered two scoops of coconut which for the life of me I.just.could.not.comprehend – I mean, who the hell orders two of the same flavour?! Nevertheless, she reasoned she had never come across coconut ice-cream, always sorbet and because it was just that delicious. I chose peanut butter gelato and berry sorbet after literally trialing every single flavour (I hope you accept my sincerest apologies dear lovely lady behind counter) which tasted exactly like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich except cold, creamy and smooth! Ahhh my mouth is watering just thinking about it. The Gelato at St Heliers Bay Cafe & Bistro is made daily from fresh and wholesome ingredients which completely reflects in the way it tastes. No other words are needed. Just go smoosh your faces into it! X