September 22, 2025"Ecco un poco!" — "Here's a little!" called out by Italian pushcart vendors on the streets of Manhattan at the turn of the last century. ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ Hey look, a chance to support the newsletter!
Please let me know here if you can't see the ads. Thanks! ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ Patent No. 746,971About 60,000 Italian immigrants arrived at Ellis Island in 1895, each carrying dreams of reinvention in America. Among them was a 27-year-old gelato maker named Italo Marcioni, from the tiny mountain village of Peaio. In quick succession after his arrival:
Wall Street traders called the cart vendors "Hokey Pokeys," derived from how they called out "Ecco un poco!" (meaning "Here's a little!") as they walked down the street. Marchiony became well known, and he credited part of his success to the fact that he served his gelato in elegant little liquor glasses. He soon was successful enough that he hired employees and had more pushcarts. But then a problem emerged. People kept walking off with the glasses. Get this ...This turned into a real problem, and Marchiony was vexed trying to think of a solution. Each evening, he returned to his Hoboken apartment and pondered his dilemma. He came up with a radical idea: What if he created -- get this -- an edible container? No washing, no returns, no breakage. So, Marchiony began experimenting with waffle batter, working late into the night. The key was timing. Fresh off the waffle iron, the batter was pliable. If he worked quickly—before it cooled and hardened—he could fold it into a cup shape. As it cooled, the waffle would hold its form. Night after night, he refined the process in his flour-dusted kitchen. Soon, he was ready to test his creation. Sure enough — it was another success. Traders loved the waffle cups—convenient, sanitary, and delicious. September 22, 1903Word spread through the financial district. Lines formed at Marchiony's cart. His sales tripled, then quadrupled. By 1902, Marchiony had 45 pushcarts across Manhattan. When his business scaled, and when hand-making enough cups became impossible, he adapted a waffle iron design to create a machine that produced ten waffle cups at once. He filed for intellectual property protection on September 22, 1903, receiving approval as Patent No. 746,971. Marchiony had officially become the inventor of the edible ice cream container. Or at least, the inventor of the edible ice cream container-creating machine. Then came the 1904 Louisiana Purchase Exposition in St. Louis. Wait, who is Arnold Fornachou?The story most people have heard is that a man named Arnold Fornachou was selling ice cream at the fair, but ran out of dishes -- and that he turned to Ernest Hamwi, a vendor nearby selling waffle-like pastries. Then, the two men rolled one of Hamwi's waffles into a cone shape for Fornachou to fill with ice cream. The improvised "cornucopia" was a hit. Newspapers trumpeted the ice cream cone's "invention" at the World's Fair, crediting Hamwi. But Marchiony had been mass-producing edible containers for nearly a decade by that point. If the historical confusion bothered him, it didn't slow Marchiony down. He opened a factory in Hoboken soon after the exposition, manufacturing cones and wafers on an industrial scale. Horse-drawn wagons bearing the Marchiony name supplied retailers across the Northeast. At peak capacity, his factory produced 150,000 cones every 24 hours. By 1924, Americans were eating 245 million ice cream cones per year. Today, that number exceeds one billion. Small moments of joyJust for added measure, Marchiony also invented the ice cream sandwich -- reasoning that some small percentage of Americans back then felt undignified licking from a cone. Fire destroyed Marchiony's factory in 1934, but unlike so many stories we've shared in which unsung inventors never really saw much financial upside, Marchiony was able to sell the rest of his business, and he walked away quite comfortably. I don't know about you, but I really like ice cream. I also like that I can draw a line from Marchiony's arrival in the U.S. 130 years ago to a summer treat that makes my daughter very happy. So here's to Italo Marchiony, one of the 60,000 who arrived in 1895, and whose broken dishes led to a sweet American tradition. Every summer afternoon, every baseball game, every boardwalk stroll—his late-night kitchen experiments live on in billions of small moments of joy. If you aren't also subscribed to Understandably, you can follow me there! 7 other things to know this week ...
|
Hi. I write the Understandably daily newsletter—no algorithms, no outrage, just an essential daily newsletter trusted by 175,000+ smart people who want to understand the world, one day at a time. Plus bonus ebooks (aka 'Ubooks').
BIG NEWS before we dive in ... I'm writing a Big Optimism book! As a loyal subscriber, you can get an advance copy for free. How? With the one-click link below. Click that and I'll put you on the list for a free advance copy, and also bring you over to the new home of Big Optimism on Substack. This will be your only chance to come along! I hope you'll click the link (just click it; that's all you have to do) and keep moving forward with me on this optimistic journey. Yes! Keep sending me Big...
November 2, 2025 "Regardless of what actually happened after the first game, football was here to stay." - Rutgers University official account ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ Please let me know here if you can't see the ads. You can ignore the fact that the webpage might not load — just clicking the link tells me! ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ ↑ 159 years It's college football season, and you might wonder just how long we've been doing this. Intercollegiate sports in America started with rowing: Harvard and Yale raced on Lake...
Quick note: Last week I spent a few hours with the Substack team in New York. They made a compelling pitch for me to move Big Optimism to their platform next month. I'm seriously considering it. I want to make 100% sure that no matter what happens, you keep getting this newsletter every Monday. So can I ask a favor? Sign up for the Substack version now—it takes 10 seconds and ensures you won't miss an edition if I do make the switch. Sign up here for the Substack version of Big Optimism...