A Hang-Over Fix

It had been a long night. Celebrating with my roommate upon the finding of an attractive, heterosexual, man in New York City-he even had an accent- I happily crashed on the couch.

Upon rising, I realized that our overnight guest had multiplied. We suddenly had multiple English gremlins one of which I nearly tripped over on the way to the bathroom. Apparently, male English twenty-somethings have maintained their pack mentality...even when hooking-up.

Resenting the sexy bartender that had talked me into another shot of Makers Mark...I eventually got myself together and headed to SoHo....I needed something to get rid of this hangover.

Meeting a friend at Dean and Deluca, we wandered... stumbled... along the cobbled stone streets of SoHo. Past the credible posers at Felix, we found...to our surprise... a total gem of a chocolate shop. Called Kee Chocolatier, this cozy shop was comfortably filled with hungry SoHo denizens along with the smells of chocolate and other pleasant aromas. Because of the exposed brick walls, the small shop needed little decoration apart from the glass shelves displaying the lovely handmade bon-bons. Kee herself was to my excitement busy at work in the exposed kitchen stirring and mixing, folding, and shaping. "Isn't a drink the best thing for a hang-over"... I asked my companion. Agreeing with myself...I confidently purchased a champagne infused dark chocolate bon-bon. I took a bite and declared... "freakin delicious".

Heading up to Union Square, I insisted that we stop at Max Brenner:Chocolate By the Bald Man. The large, multi-level space with an assembly line kitchen as its focal point, would seem more at home in Times Square or a sub-urban mall food court. Yet, the incredible smells of chocolate fondue and fresh waffles, of all things, made me giddy and lifted my spirits. As I wandered toward some truffles, I quickly settled upon a dark chocolate truffle infused with whiskey. As I picked up additional truffles for my roomates, I had a thought, and decided to grab a few more....just in case our overnight guests were still around.

Anyone for a Night Cap?

"We're going out for just one drink" my roomates announced...I've heard that one before. I was sick at home with a cold and the gals were hitting the town.

The next morning, stumbling from bed, my chest sticky with vapor rub, I heard the soft lullabys of someone, hopefully a roomate, vomitting in the bathroom. While I politely waited to pee, I entered my living room which to my suprise, was not in the condition I had left it. Instead, the clues detailing my roomates' escapades from the previous evening littered our small apartment.

Clue #1- bottle of resolve Clue #2-chocolate penis cake Clue #3-dried brown substance Clue #4-bottle of diet root beer, stalks of asparagus, and half a tuna steak -had I stumbled onto the set of a CSI episode? And what's with the penis cake? "I need some coffee"... I thought to myself.

As my roomates began to stumble out of bed...and out of the toilet...I waited for the evening re-cap...it of course began with... "I'm never drinking tequila again"...followed by..."I volunteered to make a penis cake for a co-worker's bachelorette party"... and finally..."I felt like some late-night tuna steak topped with soy sauce and steamed asparagus and chased with a diet root beer"...

My roomates obviously have incredible motor skills. Firstly, I didn't even know our oven worked properly. And while drunk, roomate #1 somehow managed to make a chocolate penis cake-which I later heard was delicious. Secondly, since our stove top-which also hardly works-had the remnants of tuna and steamed asparagus, it was apparent that we actually owned a vegetable steamer, and that resolve does indeed work wonders on soy sauce stains. And who ever heard of tuna steak satisfying the late-night munchies...this gal's got taste.

"But how did you get the ingredients for the cake...and the tuna"...I asked. "Food Imporium"...they announced. I pictured the two of them stumbling through the store looking for frosting, sprinkles, diet root beer, and a tuna steak.

I nodded my head...everything seemed to make sense, and wasn't too out of the ordinary.

My roomates finally left for work, hung over, and one with a penis cake in her hands. "Be careful"... I said as she closed the door..."today is not the day to get mugged, hit by a car, or caught in a hostage crisis". I can just see the police report now.."the victim was found with a blood alcohol level of .08 and a penis cake".

Loving Mario and the Easy Tour Guide

Great wine, pizza, calamari, Matt Dillion...that really was a great dinner.

I've visited a few of Mario Battali's restaurants, but I really love Otto. While holding my "destination" ticket...we were boarding a train for Messina, Italy...actually waiting for a table of three...I glanced around Otto's welcoming bar and felt completing relaxed and content. Patting myself on the back...I acknowledged my skills as a tour guide.

Sometimes having guests is a bit stressful. Where should I take them for dinner, which tourist sites-yuck-should we visit, and which neighborhoods to trot through? My sister was in town, and dinner on Monday night was on my mind. Italian's always a good pick, but I wanted a bit of a scene, and not too expensive. Otto proved to be a great choice.

Firstly, Otto was comfortably packed for a Monday night. People having wine at the bar with antipasti, tables strategically cluttered with plates full of pasta, pizza...it was game-time. While waiting for a table, the bartender took charge, gave us a few tastings and suggestions, and planted a quartino of a Montepulciano in front of us.

Finally seated, our waiter suggested a $30 bottle of wine-another Montepulciano that is appartently one of Mario's favorites. It was easy to drink, and went well with all of our courses. We happily settled with two pastas-carbonara and ricotta with eggplant- pizza topped with fennel for the table, a "flight" of pesce-calamari, anchioves, shrimp, mussles-and an artichoke salad. Gelato followed-olive and pistachio-and chocolate sauce appropriately served in a shot glass...I drank, yes drank, all of the chocolate sauce.

But where was Mario? Maybe at the Spotted Pig, or Babbo, or Bar Jamon? I searched for a red head wearing clogs and shorts, and to my suprise spotted Matt Dillion. "Isn't your big sis cool" I said to my sister. A New York visit just isn't complete without a celeb siting.

Cold Turkey

Last night my roomate announced... "I really need to have sex...and I'm craving chocolate". I nodded and replied... "me too".

Sex and chocolate had indeed been on my mind, and not in that order.

After our conversation, I started to think about cravings in general.

I unfortunately live near Times Square, and am constantly stimulated by lights, people, noise...with this incessant pollution, I often find myself numb, and not really seeing, hearing, or feeling my surroundings. Without acknowledging my surroundings I find myself seeking sensory satisfaction elsewhere. In food, an I-Pod, intimacy-if there was any to have....

New Yorkers experience too much, too often, and too quickly. Our senses are overwhelmed by noise, other people, smells, and yet my mind doesn't seem to absorb much. And that's when my cravings creep up. It's as if I'm starved, needing genuine satisfation. Perhaps that's why New Yorker's are considered impatient people...because we are starved for a real connection between our mind and senses...and we need instant gratification...a cab now, coffee now, the train now.

One craving always seems to outweigh another. And that craving triggers the others. Everyday, I encounter dozens of strangers while walking to work, waiting in line, and yet I seldom make a connection. I suppose I'm craving intimacy most of all...a connection... simply a conversation with someone outside of my circle of friends and co-workers.

The abscence of intimacy....sex even...has led me to crave distractions in general. Maybe an autumn fling is in order.

Hot Chocolate Trips in Manhattan

....I wrote this last February. Since the weather is starting to get colder I've been craving hot chocolate and thinking about new places I'd like to visit...

New York Magazine declared February as “Chocolate Month”. Valentine’s Day probably played a part, but after I read the magazine’s blurb detailing the best hot chocolates in Manhattan, I was inspired to make regular chocolate outings as a way to satisfy my coco cravings and to explore my new home.

My chocolate mission started at Jacque Torres’ Chocolate Haven for a Peanut Butter Hot Chocolate. The ingredients—two of my all time favorites—made his version incredibly rich. Downing the decadent treat in his whimsical shop reminded me of the pastry chef himself who ends each of his Food Network shows—another favorite—with some pretty solid advice: “life is sweeter with chocolate”.

The deceptively simple-sounding Hot Chocolate at City Bakery in Chelsea is actually a sophisticated version, matching the sleek, loft-like setting. Accessorized with homemade marshmallows and prepared behind a bar in the middle of the café a la assembly line, this cup-of-goodness was all about attention to detail.

Michel Cluizel makes the chocolate that I keep at home. I love his 64-66% Venezuelan bar, and when I found out that the namesake was also a hip chocolate lounge equipped with cocktails, I was sold. A friend and I started our Saturday evening with a pot of hot chocolate that was classic, simple, and rich, and it alone kept us going into the wee hours.

Each spot put a smile on my face not just because I love chocolate, but because every trip brought me to a new nook of Manhattan. With the weather turning nice, I’ll have to start a new city tour… I heard about these truffles in Soho…