If you can eat a day’s worth of calories in cookies from ten to eleven in the morning and not require a nap and a pepto before one, this event is for you. I loved attending, I loved eating the cookies, I loved the new New York Times venue, but I hated how I was feeling afterwards.
“Well, Hagan,” you say, “You should have eaten less!”
Come on. Would I sacrifice that and come through with a less than thorough report for you? I didn’t want to do that to you ;-) The problem was that I was feeling like crap within the first ten minutes of entry, so for the last half hour, I was taking crappy notes. The whole thing kind of backfired.
I didn’t bother trying to meet Martha – she was swamped with people and I had no way to get my picture with her aside from handing someone else my camera (the batteries on my point-and-shoot had died). It wasn’t really a Martha meet and greet kind of event – the line was an avenue long before we got in. The guy behind me got a doughnut before he came in. From Dunkin’ Donuts.
Dude. What are you doing? You’re going to an event called “Milk and Cookies!” If that act indicated anything about his level of self-restraint, I’m sure he felt just like me when he left.
Lee Schrager, impresario of the #NYCWFF was on hand to introduce Martha and talk about the causes behind the event.
Everyone was piling up cookies on their programs. I was picking up each one, taking a bite, and throwing 75% of each cookie in the trash. I didn’t feel too bad about doing this but I always explained what I was doing to each of the vendors so I didn’t hurt their feelings.
No idea what those things they’re playing with were, but these kids weren’t eating cookies. There has to be something wrong with these kids mentally, or that stamp thing hast to be the most captivating toy since Tickle Me Elmo.
They hired male models to pour the milk. They were slow as balls. Around the corner was a milk rep and he was cranking it out for people. They gave you a splash of milk in each one of the cups, enough for one cookie. They were telling me how it was pure, natural, organic, bullshit bullshit bullshit. I’m sure the plastic cups you’re wasting are fantastic for the environment, too, yeah? I know how the fuck it tastes, dumbass. It’s milk. Give me two cups so I don’t have to stand in line behind Jersey Couture again.
I didn’t mind throwing away these cornmeal lime cookies. They needed to be softer and sweeter.
Jacques of Jacques Torres Chocolates was here getting photographed. A passerby described him to his wife as The Jean Georges of Chocolates.
What’s the technical term for these almond cookies?
The Rugelach was made by the same people. I had two bites. I forget what this company was called.
My mom makes these and calls them peanut blossoms. Sorry mom, these were better.
Sweet Revenge showcasing the dessert/beer pairing.
Wannabe TKOs.
I don’t like the consistency of Macarons that much, but these things are so damn photogenic that people don’t mind it. Imagine if I was the only person that thought this… I may be in the minority here, but there has to be a subset of the population secretly hoping for this craze to die quickly. They are pretty though, huh?
Almond Meringues from Babbo. Why do I enjoy meringues and am don’t so much like Macarons? No idea.
Pistachio biscotti from Babbo. Not as pleasant as the meringue.
Martha tries a sample from the Sullivan Street Bakery.
