Some Sweets

So, we’ve indulged a bit lately. First, J requested a special trip to 21 Below Rolling Ice Cream at Galleria 7 in Latham (which we’ve visited before). The schtick here is that they pour out liquid ice cream and it freezes before your eyes while the ice cream folks do their stuff. You can go to their Facebook page to see a video of the process.

J’s friend had told her and another friend about it, so she was excited to check it out with the two of them. J ended up getting something mocha flavored with almonds and coconuts.

In a rare act of self-control I resisted the ice cream. I can’t remember why. Then I made myself scarce so that the girls could have “girl time” without me. Afterwards, J said that the ice cream was interesting to watch but not a stand-out, taste-wise. The trouble is that taste experiences like the surprisingly delicious shaved ice in NYC and the super-yummy Amorino ice cream in Paris are still fresh in her mind. We’re basically ruining her for more everyday experiences.

Which reminds me, Cute W and I stopped to get chocolates at Coco Bar, right next door to Johnny’s Restaurant in the heart of downtown Schenectady. The chocolates were tasty-but-not-spectacular, but it’s definitely a great location for when you don’t want to schlep all the way down the hill to Villa Italia Bakery. Which, truth be told, I never really want to do, because I am not much of an Italian-pastry-and-gelato girl: I vastly prefer chocolate and ice cream, so I’m pretty psyched about this new development. She was very welcoming and friendly, which eased my deep-seated subconscious bitterness that my dad never bought me my own adorable chocolate shop when I was a teenager. Eating a caramel-cashew turtle just brightens your mood, for sure. And, like I said, the place is cute.

Our visit was part of our “birthday eve” date, after Tara Kitchen and cocktails and before The Color Purple, the soccer game, and the board meeting. So I forgot to mention it until I found the picture on my phone.

Meanwhile, last week I was shopping at Hannaford, and would you believe this display that I found in the first half of October?

Seriously: who drinks all of this egg nog? And shouldn’t egg nog have a defined season so everyone doesn’t die of a heart attack before December 25? Yikes.

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