Usually I’m all about celebrating the end of the work week and the start of the weekend with a stiff drink, but last Friday, the drink I knew would hit the spot and take edge off was of the non-alcoholic variety.
As soon as I pushed open the door and bounded out on to the sidewalk where Flaneur was waiting for me, his chin burrowed down into his zipped up jacket, I thought: oh… my… expletive, it’s freakin’ cold. This calls for something warm. And chocolatey. Continue reading