Friday, November 11, 2011

Clouds of heaven

Before I left New York, Laura and I stopped in at Levain Bakery. Obviously I like to support this kind of business. Laura had me at "cookie" but then she went on to say, "They weigh the dough before they bake them and each cookie is a third of a pound." STOP EVERYTHING. This is a kind of business I absolutely need to be supporting. So there we were, buying cookies the size of baseballs. Can I share a little secret? I bought 3, thinking I'd bring Joel one, eat one myself, and bring the third for a friend here in Colorado. Super nice, right? WRONG. Because after a near catastrophe at airport security, I fought back tears (at the thought of having to leave my Spekuloos behind - seriously, this stuff is life-changing/enhancing) with the (internal - I'm guilty of often audibly talking to myself, but not this time) declaration that was going to eat ALL THE COOKIES myself. SO THERE.

I shared some with Joel. But even he couldn't eat an entire cookie in one sitting. I ate nearly 2/3 of a cookie before I broke out in a little sweat and realized it was quite likely I was slipping into a cookie-induced coma. I wondered what the medical chart might read, in such an instance. And what the remedy would be.

As if I'd even want one.

In short, if you're in NYC, stop in and buy a cookie. Or three. And if you're not in NYC, then plan a trip and stop at the bakery. And then the Waffle Truck. And then the Shake Shack.

And maybe Ellis Island or something.