New Yorkers and brunch is like Alexis and almond milk lattes. Some kind of holy matrimony that penetrates deep beyond the surface, meshing like a goat cheese and fig crostini—yes, that epic of a grouping is the only way to describe it.
If I could bathe in this cookie and soak in it’s doughy moisture, I would lather it on like it’s nobody’s business. I realize that this is a bit strange. But I waited in a nice little line for this gorgeous hunk of heaven that is a Levain chocolate chip walnut cookie, and my muffin top and bursting denim button won’t let me forget it.