Dear Tyler Perry: This Is My Story
My name is Sandro Piccioni. I was born in Buenos Aires, Argentina.
I’m an ice cream maker — not by trend or necessity.
I started at 14 years old, behind a counter.
I had no obligation to work — my parents were financially stable —
but something about that craft caught my attention. I fell in love with it from day one.
I dreamed of owning my shop.
After eleven years of learning, at 25, I made it happen:
I opened my first ice cream parlor and began producing my creations.
But in Argentina, dreams often crash into reality.
Even without paying rent, the economic crisis forced me to shut down.
I didn’t flee my country. I didn’t escape.
I decided to take a chance.
A friend who traveled told me, “Sandro, your ice cream would do great over there.”
And that’s how I came to the United States — with a suitcase full of faith, recipes, and a dream.
In 2007, I founded Gelato Grotto, a handmade gelato shop built from scratch.
I worked day and night — making recipes, serving customers, delivering orders, and cleaning floors.
Little by little, I made it: we got into five Whole Foods Market locations.
My ice cream was recognized by local magazines as the best-frozen dessert in Palm Beach County,
and as a Latino chef, that was a huge honor for me.
But success has many faces.
Behind the brand, there were contracts, partners… and betrayal.
I lost it all. My brand, my business, my income.
Even the right to use my name.
And then, I had to start all over again.
Not with money. Not with equipment.
With pain. With a phone. And with a broken heart.
That’s how my YouTube channel was born.
I didn’t just teach how to make ice cream — I taught how to get back up.
How to turn loss into learning, and knowledge into seeds.
Today, I’m building a new dream.
It’s not a non-profit. It’s not a foundation.
It’s a purpose-driven factory.
A project inspired by Hayley Arceneaux and her space journey with Inspiration4.
My dream is to create a factory where every scoop helps raise awareness about childhood cancer,
and where every flavor tells a real story.
But I’m still fighting.
I film in a corner of my home, with a one-liter machine and borrowed lights.
Many people think I’m doing well… but they don’t know that most nights, I just ask God for a little more strength to keep going.
Tyler, I know I’m not famous.
But if my story — as an immigrant, as an ice cream maker, as a man who still believes in kindness — can inspire someone…
then it’s worth telling.
I once saw you speak at Lakewood Church.
And I thought:
“If this man could walk through hell and rise with grace… maybe my story deserves to be heard too.”
Thank you for reading this, if it ever reaches you.
And thank you for reminding us that broken beginnings can lead to beautiful legacies.
With respect, faith, and hope,
Sandro Piccioni
