Pour a stiff vodka-and-Italian-custard cocktail and pair it with a perky little pizza or a side of sushi, and we're willing to overlook a joke about our jumblies. During a visit to Gelato in Meridian, a demure damsel and her puzzled parents were regaled with a bomb about blouse bunnies. "Why is a gelato martini like a woman's breasts? One is not enough and three is too many." Harrumph. We'd appreciate if you kept our casabas out of the conversation. At least until after we've had a gelato-tini or two.
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