la femme e le chat

Eclair Cone

Summer's basting New York City in sweat. That's right, NYC is basting in sweat. Sound good to you? Me neither, but to combat the acrid aroma of urea-soaked sweatshirts and business suits, we head over to the Dessert Club, ChikaLicious located on 204 E. 10th Street where patrons may choose from a rotating menu of dessert choices such as the Blueberries with Blueberry Sabayon on Lemon Genoise and Caramel Ice Cream," the Blood Orange and Vanilla Sorbet on Earl Grey Genoise with Frosted Pistachio," or the "Watermelon Sorbet in Cantaloupe Melon Soup with Honeydew Melon Mousse."

   ChikaLicious is a dessert bar where $16 buys you an amuse bouche, a dessert entree, and a serving of petit fours. Last weekend, we weren't in the mood for a formal seating or "entree-style" dessert - the object of our desire was the Eclair Cone as seen to the left.

Imagine a swirling dollop of creamy and almost buttery vanilla bean soft-serve piled on top of a crispy "cone" that's flaky and buttery in its own right. The "eclair" is hollow so that the soft-serve reaches the bottom of the pastry to ensure that every bite is accompanied by cold vanilla goodness. ChikaLicious also peddles rich ice cream sandwiches which are served on a flat cardboard container and is meant to be eaten with a fork or a spoon instead of your grubby hands.

Baby Gurl Draft #1

Nom-Monster

She said she wasn't a baby,
To that, I replied, "Maaaaybe."
Her resolve to exercise is unsteady
But when it's time to eat, she's ready
All day long, her stomach's grumbling
Sounds like a motorcycle rumbling
Sippin' Coke and eatin' Gummies
Sugary sweets fill her tummy
Popcorn's next as a savory treat
She's munching hard but always sweet
Thoughts of junk food always haunt her
It's okay, she's my little Nom-Monster

The Lush from Arkansas

She said she had a rough day
I wasn't sure what to say
As she sat down to drink
I didn't know what to think
Glass after glass got guzzled down
Her drinking really went to town
She hunkered and slumped at her desk
Her hair was disheveled and looked a mess
In retrospect, maybe it wasn't so bad
We've all had sloppy days like that

The Night Eater

Half past eleven and the sky's lit by the moon
Her stomach rumbles and she's rarin' to eat soon
Should she have toaster pizza or bacon on toast?
Maybe ramen or pasta but definitely not the roast
Quick to the kitchen, she cooks her meal
Bowl in hand and fork ready, she's eatin' for real
Munchin' and slurpin' and swallowin' too
She washes it all down with a fifth of booze
After licking her lips and feeling seriously sated
She rolls over, scratches, and dozes off to bed

Rapture, Queen of the Night

While everyone else is sleepin'

Rapture's wide awake and creepin'

When the rest of Fort Smith is dreamin'

She's putting on makeup and beamin'

Hunger strikes and she wants a bite

Eatin' cinnamon toast after midnight

Yeah, she's a sight alright

Rapture, Queen of the Night