Sandwiched between the truffles and the cupcakes was a display from Michael Allen desserts.
The cream cheese were a bit bland.
The raspberry truffles (the ones in white) were tasty, the chocolate were okay, but my oh my, the mini canelés, however, were custardy, burnt-sugary cylinders of confectionery triumph.
There was no one directing this event, it seemed, no one greeting people and explaining what to do, so we pretty much just fended for ourselves. After milling about and enjoying some sweets, Sara & I headed down to the restroom to 'powder our noses.' I noticed Sara was taking longer than usual in the one-stall room, and hoped it wasn't from bad food! She came out with an impish grin and I soon saw the reason: you can write on the chalkboard in the bathroom. Which we both promptly did. You're welcome, Mom :)
I'm pretty sure that's all bunk, but it's done in a spirit of fun.
The wine was fine--nothing amazing, not terrible. I probably wouldn't bring a bottle home, but it was perfectly suited for sitting in the cafe and catching up with a friend.
Museum of Sex
233 Fifth Avenue
NY NY 10016