Verona
I have a question for you.
Frozen Costco pizza? Or authentic Italian Mom & Pop shop pizzeria Christmas dinner?
Both get the job done, right? One’s a minimal amount of fuss - basically will be ready as fast as you can preheat the oven and tell Siri to set a timer. The other takes a bit more effort to make happen. You’ll probably have to make a reservation and these days, you might even have to wear a mask when you get there. Both sufficiently gratify the insides, but the experience of the two couldn’t be more different.
I’ve got a friend I met while working at a local San Diego coffee and gelato shop in 2014. He just recently moved back to Italy to help his parents manage the pizzeria they opened up over thirty years ago. His childhood home is in a village outside of Verona, Italy, where when he posts his photography business photos online of his evening strolls with his girlfriend, my husband and I show each other the pictures and exchange omg-are-you-kidding-me looks because it’s so. dang. pretty. Like, Shakespeare-set-Romeo-and-Juliet-here “pretty.” His parents make everything from scratch and drink wine with their guests at “aperitivo” - or happy hour for us non-Italians - and they’ve done so since they started the restaurant. They don’t give out the recipe for their sauce (but hint: simple is best), and family means everything to them. I mean, who wouldn’t want to experience a snowy Christmas dinner at the local favorite place with half the village and a family who knows how to make their customers feel like they are also a part of it? Can you imagine what it would mean to Mamma Martini to tell her that you came all the way from San Diego to Verona just because you wanted to experience her hospitality and good food?
Well, if you didn’t want to purchase the flight that would get you to the local chatty guy who would drive you in his Fiat into the village to drop you off at his sister’s house who would loan you the bikes to cycle to the restaurant just outside of town to get the good local wine and pizza, I mean - I guess you could pop into Costco… cringe and shrug.
Two completely different experiences. Full tummies after both. Which would you choose?
Consumers are often given a similar choice when it comes to buying flowers. Those $10.99 cellophane-wrapped bouquets from Vons can be awfully tempting when they’re big and bright and right next to your favorite taco-night beer. Convenient, inexpensive, lasts as long as there’s water in a vase (… and then some…), brings a lift to the heart upon sight. I know I have been pleasantly surprised many times to see my husband come home from a 48 carrying in his work boots and a crinkly, plastic-wrapped bouquet he picked up on his way. He thought of me and how much it would bring my little heart joy to see him go out of his way to show how he cares for me! Sometimes when the kids are both fighting over that toy that’s been in the bin for 49 days that’s suddenly so popular, I haven’t even had a sip of coffee yet, and the cat has puked (for the 3rd time) in the same spot on the bathroom rug, that sweet thoughtful gesture of the hardy, rainbow-colored bouquet has brought a tear to my eye.
The neighborhood florist can take that “I love you and see you” gesture and turn it up to 10. We receive an order in our inbox, do a literal jig in our kitchens as we celebrate the fact that we GOT an order, and read the notes from the customer. A wrapped bouquet going to her grandmother for her 95th birthday, complete with backstory of why lavender roses are so special to her this year, and a “please make it as beautiful as possible!” Okay, cue misty eyes. Oh, you KNOW that Suzy’s Nana is going to get special bunches of flowers bought just for her order because lavender wasn’t originally in the plan of the warm fall color palette we were planning, but we now know that those garden roses remind her of the garden she tended with her late husband of 53 years at the home where their children grew up in, so you KNOW we’re def going to find those and even throw in a few extra because how could we not? Wrap it in brown craft and pink tissue papers, turn every flower head until it’s happily showing its face just peeking out of the paper, and keep it in its own vase in a cool spot to write Suzy’s thoughtful message on a card. Maybe we’ll get another order, maybe we won’t. But you know what? It made Suzy’s Nana’s week because the address given to us is a nursing home, and COVID prevents her family from coming to visit her on her birthday. Cue misty eyes - again. We may have leftover lavender-colored flowers in buckets at home, but dang, was it worth it just to know we left a bright spot for this sweet lady in our wake.
It’s the same concept: a bouquet of wrapped flowers, going from thoughtful and sweet, yet still slightly tacky-colored and seemingly apocalypse-proof to a hand-selected, every-detail-matters, the-very-best-I-can-give-you experience. You may be paying double or triple the price for this type of bouquet, but I’d say the difference in experience more than makes up for it. I mean, I don’t think I know of anyone who would choose a pizza from Costco’s warehouse freezer section compared to an unforgettable experience in a place that makes you feel like family. So the next time you go to grab that red rose/green mum/yellow sunflower wrap, I challenge you to just get the taco-night beer and text that florist who did your wife’s Valentine’s flowers last year instead. You can guarantee she’ll do her best to wake up at 4 am tomorrow to find the same types of flowers your wife had in her wedding bouquet and deliver them ASAP with a knowing smile on her face because how could she not?
#shopsmall y’all. You and your neighborhood florist will be thanking each other for the memorable and meaningful experience of delivering flowers to your loved ones.
