I normally stay away from sugar because it messes with me emotionally and has been responsible for spontaneous crying fits throughout my life. But then this was delivered to work yesterday. A giant compost cookie from Momofuku's Milk Bar.
I've heard stories about Milk Bar. It's a bakery in NYC with legendary baked goods that are unlike anything else you will find anywhere. At first, I barely felt tempted, but then when I mentioned it to a friend who usually encourages me not to cave to my baser instincts, he admitted he'd tried the cookie before and said, "It breaks boundaries in the world of texture." Suddenly I was a lot more tempted.
I took a small wedge of the compost cookie, and with my first bite, was immediately transported to what I believe was the future. "Breaking boundaries in the world of texture" was an understatement. This cookie tastes how I think heroin probably feels. Like you'd give up the rest of your life and everyone in it for just one more bite.
"Are there coffee grounds in this?!" I feverishly asked to no one in particular, since everyone around me was lost in their own cookie experience. Yes, there were coffee grounds in it, and it only enhanced the symphony of perfectly balanced flavors.
I'll probably never eat this cookie again. Not because it wasn't perfect in every way, but because it's too addictive. It's like, if you're going to try heroin, you should go into it knowing that no matter how blissful it is, you'll never do it again. You experience it, then when it's over, you go back out into the cold, cruel world with only its memory, because anything more than that would destroy your life.
On the plus side, I don't think I could ever feel evenly mildly tempted by some basic bitch ass chocolate chip cookie ever again. My standards have been raised to an impossibly high level.