Sugar High

Now that I’m officially done with the worst part of my pregnancy (I only want to throw up twice a day instead of fifteen), we celebrated by running up and down the aisles of the world’s biggest sugar center, NYC.

To emphasize this point, we went to Economy Candy, where we could buy all the candy you used to love, in bulk. If you love black licorice there are about 20 different types. And every kind of chocolate covered item known to man. I bought a chocolate covered s’more and consumed it standing outside the store.

Circus peanuts, anyone?

Right after we went to the candy store, we got doughnuts. From The Doughnut Plant. Those geniuses created a crème brulee DOUGHNUT. And we didn’t shy away from the doughnuts, we really ate those doughnuts. All 8 of them. They have a PB & J doughnut, and they make their own jam. They even put their filling in the ring, rather than all lumped up in the middle, which just made me swoon, and bow down to NY eating geniuses for the 50th time this trip.

(The guy holding Minnie was manning the counter at The Doughnut Plant. He kept yelling to the guys in the back, “Stop giving me crap. Send up the good stuff.” And they would hand him trays of amazing Valrhona, coconut cream, and orange glazed doughnuts. I think I may need to change careers.)

Then we met the next geniuses at The Pickle Guys. They look like regular guys in there, but back behind their “we’re pretty chill” front side, they’ve got some major chemistry stuff going on in the back. They wouldn’t let us back there, but I’m pretty much positive that they must have put drugs in their pickles. That salty dill pickle after 8 doughnuts and 3 lbs of candy was heaven.

Most NY’ers are skinny. I really can’t figure it out. And no, I don’t buy the theory that it’s because they walk around all the time. Because I was walking around all the time, nay, running from food appointment to food appointment, and I was not getting skinnier. I think I may have been in a Hansel and Gretel story.

Just in case you thought we weren’t getting our nutrients, we went to pizza for dessert. Why someone doesn’t build a brick oven in Hawaii and sell NY pizza is crazy to me. Hopefully someone smart is reading this because you would make a billion dollars. Hear that, smart person? We need more Hawaii geniuses.