by C. Menegakos

The incomparable Il Laboratorio del Gelato ZoZo’s diner offers its in house Kyria’s Ice Cream Egg Custard King features chewy black tapioca balls in icy slush Can’t beat Mr. Softee’s lean prices Check out the spots mentioned in this article A-1 Pizza, 505 Grand St., 212.533.0214 Australian Ice Cream, 115 Saint Marks Pl., 212.228.5439 Baskin Robbins, 140 Delancey, 212.777.2003 Chinatown Ice Cream Factory, 65 Bayard, 212.608.4170 Cold Stone Creamery, 2 Astor Pl., 212.228.4600 Egg Custard King, 271 Grand, 212.226.8882 Flowers Cafe, 355 Grand St., 212.777.8785 Laboratorio del Gelato, 95 Orchard, 212.343.9922 (and in Whole Foods) Mary’s Dairy, 158 1st Ave, 212.254.5004 Tasti D-Lite, TastyDLite 177 E Houston St. WD50, 50 Clinton, 212.477.2900 Zafi’s, 500 Grand St., 212.533.2415 ZoZo’s 172 Orchard, 212.228.0009

few weeks ago, on one of the first nice days of this weather-challenged spring, my wife got a Tasti D-Lite craving while walking through SoHo. We sat down on a bench with her cone, only to find the wide and covetous eyes of our one-year-old fixed feverishly upon it. Now, as far as the baby is concerned, we tend to err on the side of wild asparagus and raw milk, but we also have a rule that we don’t deny her things that we’re eating in front of her.

So, into her open mouth went the chemical swirl. She nearly jumped out of her stroller with excitement. And all I could think was: Baby, you haven’t tasted anything yet.

Thus began a month long odyssey through the frozen dessert emporia of the Lower East Side. God only knows what damage we wrecked on our arteries, but it was all the baby’s fault.

We started where any New York ice cream journey must start: The incomparable Il Laboratorio del Gelato on Orchard below Delancey. Its owner, Jon Snyder, started Ciao Bella, one of downtown’s first gelato shops, but he really came into his own when the lab opened in 2002. The place has simply changed the landscape, colonizing the dessert menus at fine restaurants and changing New Yorkers’ expectations of what ice cream can and should be.

Il Laboratorio sells a true Italian-style gelato, which has less butterfat and air than American ice cream, resulting in a cleaner, but paradoxically richer, mouth-feel. Like in Italy, at the lab you can sample multiple varieties in a single cup. Dare I say it, however, the flavors on Orchard Street are actually subtler and more captivating than in Milan. A good place to start is with the lush marscapone – an improvement on the standard crema – paired with the bright flavors of orange, ginger, pistachio or cinammon, before moving on to the devastating chocolates (they range from deep chocolate hazelnut to my favorite, thai chili chocolate, whose fire is all in the finish).

The lab isn’t cheap – $3.25 for a true small, up to $5.75 for a large – but it’s clearly worth it. I only have two complaints: First, it’s so good that it has cut into the diversity at local restaurants. (For instance, the fabulous Japanese mochi at Little Giant were long ago replaced by gelato from the lab.) Second, it closes at the ridiculous hour of 6:00 PM. Gelato this good was made for la passeggiata, the stroll Italians take at night with their families. Sure, there’s now an outlet open late inside Wholefoods (same prices), but la dolce vita does not flourish in a supermarket.

For all the rapture it may inspire, however, man cannot live on gelato alone. Sometimes, when it’s really hot, you just want a coquito from the cart outside the subway entrance at Delancey and Norfolk. Essentially crushed ice in a paper cup, lightly flavored with coconut, mango, or cherry (“rainbow” is also avail- able), and costing only a dollar, it beats the Caribbean heat of New York in July better than anything featuring butterfat.

The coquito man with his bell and cheerful “venga! venga!” competes with the all-American monolith, Baskin Robbins, just down Delancey. Actually, the place functions mostly as a very busy Dunkin’ Donuts, and dragging an employee to the ice cream counter can be a real struggle. Baskin Robbins knows how to churn out nostalgic tastes, though: The classic flavors, like Pralines and Cream and the mousse-y World Class Chocolate, served in a sugar cone, are like a perfect afternoon in 1985, goofy and too sweet and lacking depth, but pretty enjoyable nonetheless.

Up a few blocks, at the high-traffic corner of Stanton and Orchard, ZoZo’s diner aims higher, pushing its in-house “gourmet” Kyria’s Ice Cream hard. Kyria’s, the counter man assured us, was featured on the Food Network. Well, that may be, but it still has an odd, ice-milk texture that hints of improper storage. I liked the idea of pairing mint with brownies instead of the ubiquitous chocolate chips, but at almost $5 a cup I need something a bit smoother.

Storage, in general, can be a problem with American style ice creams: If the stuff melts and refreezes, crystals develop. Watch out, then, when tubs of Hershey’s are pushed to the side of the counter, like at Flowers Caf? and my beloved A-1 Pizza, both on Grand Street. At Zafi’s luncheonette, across the way, you can solve the problem by having your scoop stirred into an old-fashioned ice cream soda: The bubbles somehow cure almost everything.

Ice cream, of course, is made for strolling, and the East Village has more than a few spots selling giant cones to lick on your way back south. Cold Stone Creamery, a national mall chain with an outlet on Astor Place, literally gives you more ice cream than any healthy person can eat (at correspondingly high prices, of course). Their shtick is “mix-ins” – you choose a base flavor, and then fillings that are mixed in on a marble slab – but other than the brilliant birthday-cake ice cream, I find the whole enterprise too cynical and time consuming to bother. Mary’s Dairy, on First Avenue (9th and 10th) is a far better option, but it too succumbs to the pointless indulgence disease: Callebaut chocolate chips are great for baking, but frozen in Mary’s $5-for-a-small “exotic” flavors they’re chalky and flavorless. For my money, Australian Homemade ice cream on nearby St. Marks is by far the best choice – creamy and fresh tasting, with appropriately gooey ribbons of honey and macadamia available in the “remix” series.

Chinatown has its offerings, too, notably the longstanding Original Chinatown Ice Cream Factory on Bayard Street, just below Canal. While flavors like green tea and lychee no longer qualify as exotic, odoriferous durian is still something of a find. Still, I think the most interesting Chinese take on cold desserts is icy bubble tea. Available on every other corner, I particularly like the almond variety at the always reliable Egg Custard King on Grand Street. With its chewy black tapioca balls suspended in rich, icy slush, it is like ice cream separated into its constituent textures: Sweet, refreshing cold liquid on the one hand, gummy elasticity on the other.

Restaurants are not above dishing out the ice cream, either. Clinton Street Baking Company does a whole line of retrosundaes featuring understated flavors from the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory, while next door WD-50 concocts a suitably sly take on the creamsicle with persimmons and orange blossoms. For a real treat, though, try the insane banana pi?ata at Houston Street’s El Maguey y La Tuna, a joyous mess of banana empanada, strawberry ice cream, and chocolate syrup.

So, with all these options spread before her, where’s my little girl going to go? I have no doubt: She already perks up when Mister Softee sings his sweet, sweet song while she’s on the swings in Seward Park. And I have to say, her allowance will go far: From a price perspective, our Lower East Side Mr. Softee certainly undercuts the competition.

Of course, some day the baby will grow up for real. And then she’ll be back at TastyD, right where she started.