The above is what you treat yourself to (even though you have to trudge across the tundra in order to get it) after you stand in line for four hours for this and don’t even get to go in because the first 500
losers who probably can’t even speak intelligibly and are certainly not good-looking enough hopefuls were all they had time for anyway.
I may regale you with more details about my hilarious morning (frostbite is pretty!) later, but for now, I just want to sink into the sofa with my cookies and my cat and my comforter. Ahhh.
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In case you’re wondering what I bought, I’ve marked it here. Yes, that’s right. Each cookie is six ounces. Yes.
For the record (if there is one), Levain Bakery is heaven on earth. You should go there someday.