Nothing makes sense about the gelato establishment located at 12 Gore St in Auckland's CBD. Even in winter, people queue for ages to buy overpriced desserts they aren't even allowed to see before making a purchase. No matter how much customers might try to justify their purchase, everything about this
NZ's most irrational icecream store makes another big change
Grazioli and his wife and business partner Annarosa Petrucci have made a habit of challenging the way consumers think about and experience icecream since they first started over a decade ago.
A recent move made on the eve of the summer season saw the company mess with the thing that has helped to deliver 60 per cent of its around $2 million turnover in preceding years: paper cups.
Grazioli admits that "no company in their right mind" would consider messing with such a key part of the balance sheet, but he and Petrucci saw getting rid of them as a necessary evolution of the business.
"It's been quite a shock and a change. Can you imagine how many disappointed and lost customers [we've had], people that say 'I can't trust the guys at Giapo anymore, they keep changing," admits Grazioli.
"It's true. I accept all of that. I look at them. I feel sorry for them, but I know where I'm going."
Keeping waste out of the environment did contribute to the decision, but the real impetus came down to Grazioli's motivations as a business owner.
"If I'm not making something myself, I have very little opportunity to make it better," he says.
"People can buy an icecream cup from anywhere."
What they can't buy from other stores are selfie cones, a colossal squid cone or a Sky Tower cone - all of which sell for $23 each.
Other innovations include the Paraoa Parai sandwich ($13.50), wearable kiss ($10) and wearable cones (two for $17).
Grazioli sees the cup as limiting what he does to a game of flavours that pretty much any gelato store can play.
"Icecream as a branch of gastronomy has probably created more flavours than anything… There's no food that comes in so many variations as icecream. They've done everything from salmon to kangaroo to so many different flowers and herbs.
"For us, the change has to be radical. We cannot say we are changing icecream just because we have new or odd flavours. If you want to change icecream, you have to change how people interact with it."
Grazioli demands more of innovation than the small incremental changes one might see in a new iPhone or Samsung. He wants each of his creations to push the consumer into the space where they feel slightly uncomfortable with what they're experiencing. He wants to touch the fear we all have of something new.
"In our values, we say we are changing icecream. And if we aren't doing that, we might as well close."
In some ways, Grazioli as the mad scientist in the gelato lab has created a monster beyond his control. Every innovation and every change has reinforced the expectation that consumers will experience something unique when they visit the business. And this creates the potential that the company is only ever as good as its last idea.
"I've never left the start-up stage," he says.
"I've realised it's the only stage I want to be in because it's exciting, energising and keeps us on our toes. We keep changing and innovating and we walk with our ear to the ground to get a better feel of what's going on. It's a moonshot every day."
The consistent stream of innovations coming out of the Giapo kitchen is often compared to art - a parallel Grazioli welcomes, saying that he's essentially developing what he calls "a literature" of work that defines his career.
This, he says, separates what he does from gimmicks you might find elsewhere.
"A gimmick is a one-off and ends once a campaign ends. An artist, on the other hand, tries to express a narrative over a much longer period."
The pressure of doing this consistently over the last 11 years would weigh on anyone, and Grazioli isn't impervious to the weight of the challenge he's created for himself.
"Every day I think about giving up," he says bluntly.
"I'm human. I'm normal. I may look like Superman, but I'm a normal guy. [However], every day, I move on and think it's not the right time and I think about who I might disappoint.
"The people who come here are looking for inspiration, for artwork, for dedication, or for fighting the fear of standing still. So, I'm doing it for them. If I give up, that will die."
So will he ever be satisfied with the literature he has added to the icecream world? At what stage does it become enough?
"It could become enough any time," is his response.
"I thought about it last year and as I looked back I realised that what we've done here is pretty incredible. It all depends. It's how our energy works. But I don't feel the job is done, I can tell you that."
Icecream nation
Kiwis are among the top three consumers of icecream in the world, with data from the New Zealand Ice Cream Manufacturers Association showing that we consume around 23 litres per capita every year.
Data from Statistics New Zealand shows that around $1 of every $44 spent on food in New Zealand goes toward icecream and edible ices.
Competition in the icecream market becomes particularly fierce during the summer months when manufacturers ramp up their advertising spend significantly.
Data from researcher Nielsen shows that icecream juggernaut Tip Top has spent around 61 per cent of its marketing budget between the months of November and January over the last three years.
So, you're definitely not mistaken in thinking you're being stalked by icecream brands across your summer road trip.