I only have myself to blame.
I tell myself to lay off the chocolate; much as I love it, it doesn't love me back, and why should I live with that kind of rejection? But I keep relenting, keep letting a little more chocolate into my life. There's always an excuse. This time it was the opening of a new shop near Bryant Park (hence walking distance from my job), called Lily O'Briens.
It was the combination of it being a damp day out, and the intrepid feeling of trying a new place. Plus, once I can smell the chocolate I'm doomed. So I bought a cup of dark hot chocolate to accompany me on my way back to the office.
It was $4.25, which is crazy, but I suppose being near the site of a biannual fashion week they could get away with it. Plus it wasn't made from cocoa powder but rather melted down chocolate, so it was really rich - the way it should be, as I've said before.
I only looked around the shop really quick. It was pretty enough, and seeing as it's named after its Irish founder, I was grateful not to see the usual traps of shamrocks and green, green, green. I know it's my favorite color but it just wouldn't have been cool in this context. Besides, Wednesday will show enough of that theme all over the city. I also briefly noted that they use a Parisian tea company, Dammann Freres, which means I must return at least one more time.
The napkins are chocolate brown, which is awesome. Have you ever wiped your mouth after drinking hot chocolate, and been kind of grossed out? Well, I have, so this was good thinking and presentation on the part of whoever chose the napkins.
So back to the actual hot chocolate. Oh yeah, marvelous it is. On the drizzly day I tried it, the chocolate simply hugged my tongue like a blanket you pull over yourself while watching a DVD at home when the heat hasn't come up properly. Oh, and it tasted magnificent as well.
I did not escape the requisite "stomach" issues later on (sooner rather than later, actually), but I'm glad I was able to give it one try. If you're in the area, it's certainly worth a stop-in.
Out of two pinkies up, I'll give it 1 1/2 - not because I felt sick later, that's my fault, just because it could have been slightly cheaper.