Chocolate-Stupid

Last night I attended an event for The Chocolate Box, a new chocolate retail store with espresso, pastry, and gelato bars located just up the hill from Pike Place Market. It's a mod space, all decked out in (what else?) butterscotch and chocolate tones. There are huge storefront windows that open up onto Pine Street, so you can flaunt your indulgences and throw witty remarks to passersby. How Euro.

But a small warning: by the time you get all this chocolaty goodness into your bloodstream, you might not have anything all that intelligent to say. I thought I'd just have a taste of one or two things, but I ended up going crazy, and each consecutive confection I consumed seemed to cause further brain damage.

I ran into fellow SW blogger Maggie Dutton; we'd both been there all of five minutes. We had a brilliant conversation:

MAGGIE: (Looking numb, acknowledging empty cup.) Amazing hot chocolate.

JESS: (Pointing to twelve flavors.) Gelato?

SERVER: Affogato?

JESS and MAGGIE: Definitely.

Much slurping. Eye rolls.

JESS: Milk chocolate-covered shoestring potatoes? (Crunch, crunch.)

MAGGIE: Try the cappuccino gelato. (Lick.) Lemon sorbet. (Lick, lick.)

We move to the pastry counter. Much staring. We are mostly mute, starting to drool a bit. Is this heaven?

MAGGIE: Have you tried the mint chocolate cupcakes?

JESS: Are those cream puffs?

MAGGIE: Ooh, opera cake.

JESS: Hey, I bet they make a mean mocha.

MAGGIE: (Dost mine eyes deceive me?) Are those chocolate fish?

SERVER: Dark chocolate-coated caramel with currants and syrah?

All this intelligence, and we haven't even hit the confections counter, where rows of truffles from Seattle chocolatiers are waiting to hit our palates.

Later. Heads spinning from chocolate intake. Chugging sparkling water like vinegar before a drug test. The lights seem so bright. Might have to find a detox center to reclaim brain function.

The Chocolate Box, 108 Pine Street. Open Mon. - Sat. 10 a.m. - 9 p.m., Sun. 10 a.m. - 8 p.m.