On weekends, I often whine to Dan about how I want to go on an adventure. My visions of renting a car on a whim so that we can drive up the Hudson Valley and hike up a mountain are usually squashed by 11AM when breakfast is over and I realize that laundry mountain exists in the corner of the bedroom. But this weekend, he indulged my boredom and we strolled down to Levain Bakery for a mini-adventure.
Levain's been around for a while and is adored by New Yorkers. Former New York Times restaurant critic Frank Bruni is a fan of its breads and sandwiches, but most of us head over there for their massive cookies.
The cookies are less "baked good" and more "sweet sexplosion." I've never gotten a cookie that wasn't still a little bit warm, crunchy on the outside, and ooey gooey on the inside. The double chocolate version is so sinful that you feel a little funny if too many people are around to see your face twerk in delight. Plus, getting to the uncooked center makes me want to gloriously shout "I TOLD YOU SO" to every single person who has ever tried to convince me that the risks of eating raw cookie dough outweigh the momentary bliss.
I'm so lucky that Dan understands: sometimes "I want to go on an adventure" can be rightfully interpreted as "feed me, please."