
The dairy
One herd, one Overberg farm, one delivery a day. We have never taken milk from a second supplier, because the moment you do, you are blending averages instead of choosing a flavour.
Milk from one Overberg herd. Fruit tasted before it is weighed. Five kilograms to a batch, folded by hand, sold the day it is churned or not sold at all.
dairy, one herd, one delivery a day
to a batch, and never a gram more
flavours in the cabinet each morning
trays carried into a second day
Strawberry, blueberry, and raspberry folded through vanilla fior di latte.
R45Slow-simmered blueberry compote in every ribbon, nothing from a bottle.
R45Madagascan pods steeped overnight, speckled and quietly perfect.
R45Cream cheese gelato, roasted strawberry swirl, buttered crumble.
R45Belgian dark chocolate churned low and slow until it turns velvet.
R45House-baked cocoa biscuits crushed into sweet cream, never soggy.
R45Burnt-sugar caramel with sea salt flakes and toffee shards.
R45Sicilian pistachios ground to a paste in-house, deep and toasty.
R45Ripe Alphonso mango and a squeeze of lime, dairy-free sunshine.
R45Amalfi lemons, pressed the morning we churn, bright and clean.
R45
“If the fruit is not good enough to eat by the handful, it does not go in the machine.”

One herd, one Overberg farm, one delivery a day. We have never taken milk from a second supplier, because the moment you do, you are blending averages instead of choosing a flavour.

Berries land at half past four and are tasted before they are weighed. Anything that would not be a pleasure to eat by the handful goes back in the crate, not into the pot.

Five kilograms at a time, turned slow and cold. Small batches hold less air, and less air is the whole difference between gelato and the frozen dessert sold everywhere else.

Compotes and crumbles go in by hand, off the machine, with a spatula and a slow wrist. It is the least efficient minute of the morning and the one you taste.

In the cabinet by ten, gone by close, never carried into a second day. We would rather send you home with a shrug than with yesterday.
Lime plaster, a single travertine slab, and eleven seats. We built it narrow on purpose. Standing at the glass while your scoop is pulled is half of what you came for, and a queue that moves is a better room than a hall of empty tables.


Packed the morning it is churned and handed over in a case that holds temperature for four hours.

Seven pints, your choosing, in the insulated case.

Two pints and a pair of pressed birch spoons.

Four bottled shakes, blended from two scoops each.
The mixed berry tastes like someone picked the fruit an hour ago. I have never had gelato this alive.
We drove from Paarl for the strawberry cheesecake. We now drive from Paarl most Sundays.
It is the prettiest shop I have ever stood in, and somehow the gelato still upstages the room.