Recently, I was asked by a very polite gentleman from NYC to work on a custom Cozy order. (Okay, I have to stop here. In all of my communications with him, I couldn't bring myself to call them "Cozies." Call me gender biased, but with him, I referred to them as "Covers.")
The first thing I noticed was that he was an excellent writer. I really enjoyed reading his emails. They were fun to read and were full of wit, light-heartedness and intelligence. Turns out, he was a writer. I knew it!
We exchanged some friendly emails, and then he sent a package containing an old plastic cover that I could use as a pattern, and two pieces of upholstery fabric. I made sure I had all the details correct, and then I started to create his Cozies.
They turned out great and fit like a glove. He even sent a picture.
But that's not where this story ends. A few days later, I received a mysterious package in the mail. I didn't remember ordering any fabrics. And...the box was much too light to be the rice cakes I had recently ordered. I opened it up and this is what I found.
My excitement grew when I saw a picture of a cookie and read the word, "bakery."
And yes, I was so excited, I even took pictures of each step of the unwrapping of the box.
This is what I found inside! Holy cow, these were (notice the past tense) HUGE cookies!
Where I live, these are called muffins. But, in NYC these are called cookies. I've never been a city girl, but these cookies could persuade me to reconsider.
By this time in the process, my husband and sister had gathered around. I noticed they, too, were salivating. So I (grudgingly) shared. We broke out the milk and began to sample the 4 varieties of cookies from Levain Bakery. There are no words to describe how good these cookies were. They were crunchy, chewy, sweet, heavy, substantial mounds of cookie heaven.
15 minutes later, this is all that was left of the first packet. They were a lot better than the rice cakes.
Here's the card that was enclosed in the box. "Your Little Piece of Cookie Heaven." Truer words were never spoken. Thanks, Bill :)