Every Sunday, Ana takes the stage alongside Boy Olmi and Pablo Fusco to pay tribute to her family in a piece she wrote herself, which, with great doses of sensitivity and humor, talks about childhood, family, traditions, and, of course, ice cream!
It all started with an ice cream
Let's start at the beginning: without a doubt, Scanapiecco is one of the most traditional ice cream shops in the city. Founded in 1938 by “nono” Andrés (or Andrea) and his wife Josefina, it is now run by the third generation of ice cream makers, maintaining the quality and passion that have characterized them since the start.

In 1938, Andres and Josefina decided to try their luck by opening an ice cream shop at the front of the house they lived in on Avenida Córdoba, number 4800. Honoring their origins, they called it “Antigua Napoli” and worked obsessively to make the best ice cream in the neighborhood. Josefina cooked for the employees, and Don Andrea, a lover of instruments, would fill the workdays with the sound of the mandolin, violin, piano, and guitar.
The old shop saw the family grow with the arrival of their three children. In 1949, they renamed it with their surname, and in 2010 they opened a branch, which is still in operation today on Avenida Alvarez Thomas, in front of the Flea Market.
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Family tradition
Ana was born with a surname synonymous with ice cream, and she grew up surrounded by cones, dulce de leche tubs, secret recipes, and freezers. In La Heladería (The Ice Cream Shop), she pays tribute to her roots and slowly cooks the family story while searching for the perfect lemon ice cream recipe, inherited from her beloved uncle.
With extensive acting training, including courses in clowning, singing, and dancing, and a long history in the off-theater circuit, Ana decided to take the leap and reach Calle Corrientes to share her story and her family’s story on stage.

How did the idea of telling your family's story in La Heladería come about?
It started with several dreams I had about the ice cream shop and the characters who inhabited it. From there, I had great conversations with my family, from which I gathered anecdotes and stories.
I have a million memories that also encouraged me to do it: from the afternoons of my childhood behind the counter to squeezing oranges and lemons, weighing bags of sugar, pouring dulce de leche into the ice cream maker, puncturing milk bags in a giant strainer, or playing with the cash register pretending to charge customers.
What do you think makes your family unique as ice cream makers?
The Scanapiecco family is quite special in general. We have a very marked trait of constant work: making ice cream requires a lot of attention and physical presence because you have to be constantly observing the process. Whether the fruit is too ripe, how the consistency is, whether you need to add sugar or if the eggs are good... it’s a very unique procedure in which you have to focus on all the details.
The job of an ice cream maker requires being present, and that’s how we are. Since there is no unique recipe for making ice cream, the same thing happens in theater, and it's much more fun that way because you get to discover the process.

Can you share an anecdote from your childhood/adolescence in the ice cream shop?
Oh, I have a million! Overeating ice cream with my friends and then making lemon sodas as a digestive remedy. The moments of silence with the sound of the freezers when the shop was closed, and the wonderful feeling of having the whole ice cream shop to myself. Family birthdays where we would lower the blinds and stay celebrating and playing with my cousins.
Was it hard to transition your experiences into theatrical language?
The hardest part was cleaning up all my experiences, which were obviously tied to many emotions and sensations, in order to make them interesting for the dramatic arc. I had to set aside anecdotes that I thought were cute or funny because the stage and the theatrical action required it. It was a kind of puzzle that turned into a writing process of about two years.
What does it feel like to present it on Calle Corrientes?
I come from independent theater, from premiering plays in smaller spaces, and I see that, luckily, in recent years, the boundary between off/commercial theater has been broken, and many productions have made it to Calle Corrientes. For me, it’s beautiful to be in such a lovely room like the Picasso Theater at Paseo La Plaza, which has a very cozy layout that allows you to be so close to the audience from the stage. The first time I saw the sign on the marquee, I was filled with immense emotion, not because I thought, “I made it!” but because it allows the play to have much more visibility than in a small neighborhood theater.
Would you share the recipe for the perfect lemon ice cream?
It’s the one you share on a summer night with family, whether by blood or chosen, and when you swallow it, you feel the softness of the lemon caressing your throat.