I was on my way into the gym for a quick work out at 10pm when I got a text from my friend Jeff, "see you at mm at 10:30!" (meaning Morimoto), where he and Lori were headed for a late dinner.
It was Monday night.
Morimoto is a fabulous (expensive) Japanese restaurant on the LWS.
I'm in the gym, at least 30 minutes away.
So I do a quick u-turn and head home to change... hop on the subway and make my way down.
I didn't eat but I did have a drink.
It was called the High Line- a signature cocktail. Lori was drinking it. I would like to say it looked like an innocent little drink- innocuous by all standards, without a hint as to what it would offer its' recipient. But it didn't look like that. It looked interesting and spicy and cleanly colourful.
It was a delightful mix of cool and refreshing with a kick from a citrus plant and an undercurrent of Japanese spice. It made me feel like I was drinking something so delicious that it was the best thing I'd ever had in my life, but then it would stop and say "oh no... I'm actually better than that. I'm actually more than you realized. I have this taste, and then this flavour as well. I just keep on surprising you and giving you more drink love."
I adored it.*
You might think it's a bit ridiculous that I'm writing an entire post about a drink- and it is. But mostly it's so that I keep up this appearance of the nyc life- where I am going OUT at 11pm on a Monday night- because that's just how I roll. (vs my reality which would lead to posts about how I actually go to bed at 10pm after eating pad Thai from a box and watching reruns of Degrassi on the N Network).
*editors note: yes it's just a drink. it's not that special. you might like it. you might not. I wouldn't go out of your way to get it- but if you're there... try it on. Have a sip. It might suit your taste. Or not.