NYC Bestie Trip - Day 2 - cont (2)

Just In Time - New York, NY

It's a sprint to the theater after we hit human traffic all along the upper east side. The walk to our seats is spent huffing and puffing while we fan away our pooling sweat. We sit with not a moment to spare...only we find that the guy we're here to see isn’t here. Matt Magnusson replaces Jeremy Jordan only hours before the start of the show. 

I don't know either of them, and I don’t know Bobby Darin, but I know I don't believe he’s here. Mr. Magnusson hits the notes, and he clearly can sing, but he lacks the crucial charisma that guys like Bobby effortlessly exude, and he doesn’t have that chemistry that comes with the countless rehearsals required to form a cohesive cast. 

The songs are a reminder of just how much Bobby Darin remains in the undercurrent of our culture, and his impact is undeniable. But when all is said and sung, Bobby Darin's story is a sad one, and the variety show makes it more of a spectacle. 

Still, the songs are iconic, and the icons are incredible. Olivia Holt is an unforgettable Connie Francis, and the show is overall entertaining despite an often unnecessary amount of exposition. 

Max Brenner Times Square - New York, NY

It's a quick stop for a snack, and this dark chocolate-something sips like a sweet dream. 

It's smooth and expected sweet but also quite balanced with pretty deep flavors. Much better than I expected for a chain, but clearly there's a reason Max Brenner is still around. 

I’m Donut? - New York, NY

A Japanese donut store attempts to establish itself in NYC, grabbing a little storefront right off Times Square. It's party in the front, business in the back, utilizing most of the deep space to create their artisan donuts. 

This limited-edition Oishii Matcha Strawberry Cream tastes like spring to summer, right before it gets too heavy and hot. Yogurt cream keeps the sugar in check, and berries add some acid, though there are not enough. 

Zaku-Zaku satisfies any sweet tooth with a thick coat of caramel, and a cover of crunchy nuts.

The idea is cute, but the execution needs work. These donuts are not nearly as pretty as their pictures, to an extent that isn't entirely acceptable, and it's time to change that oil because I can tell it's getting old. Expectations should not be lofty given its tourist-trap location, but there is room for improvement at this price-point. 

Hold my donut, it’s Mariska Hargitay! 

I almost miss my idol because my stupid brain gets suddenly shy. 

But that’s why I have my bestie, whose unwavering but usually gentle support shifts into an assertive push in the direction I need to go. 

She loves me enough that she’d never let me miss this, and for these photos I will be forever in her debt. 

I have followed her career for 27 seasons, and though I have nothing for her to sign, a close-up of Olivia Benson is the highlight of this trip.

There’s a brief lull between donut and dinner, and we stumble upon Pageant Print Shop along the way. 

I'm told it was once in a Woody Allen movie, but nothing prepares me for the piles of antique prints in every color, of every shade...or the surly woman behind the counter who answers no questions and suffers no fools. This is the kind of experience that is uniquely New York, and the possum print I dig up for my husband is as rare a find as he is. 

Maxed out on Max Brenner - Boston

If a creepy man in a ski mask were to crawl through your window in the dead of night, the man you unmask would be a dead ringer for the Max Brenner logo. The harsh lines of wrinkles speak of a hardened career criminal, face devoid of feeling as he embraces the indifferent life of a sociopath.

When you finally unmake him and get a glimpse of his face, he recognizes a lost cause and jumps from your balcony with a quiet thud and slips into the night with as much stealth as the servers at his restaurants…and crashes onto the ground, breaking his neck. We were served by several different people at Max Brenner , which is understandable when it’s that busy, but it’s never so busy that it becomes acceptable to just plunk a plate down, practically dropping it. I thought one of my plates would actually shatter. I felt like we were at a coked-out version of Sonic where everyone flies by on rollerskates without brakes and just throws stuff at you instead of setting it down. Brilliant way to make your customers feel welcome. Seriously.

Dessert was slightly more graceful than the servers…the White Chocolate Cheesecake Crepe was filled with cheesecake-textured cream cheese  just doesn’t have enough sugar to hide the unmistakable sour bagel-topper aftertaste. The accompanying dulce de leche ice cream is tasty, but there just isn’t enough of it. I’m not sure what they define as “orange-mint salad”, but 3 half-slices of orange topped with a lone mint leaf does NOT constitute a salad. You know a dish lacks substance when they feel a need to include the garnish in the description.

The Melting Chocolate Truffle Heart Cake & Shake is a yummy chocolate overkill, and as much as it clearly clogged my arteries, I couldn’t object to a standard gooey melting cake with ice cream, and the chocolate shot is yet another cute idea.

There is a reason I don’t write up chains. It’s impossible to appease the masses without a certain level of sellout, and that’s just what the bald man does. For starters, the place is always packed to the clean-shaven gills with young and old, gregarious and lonely, lovers and friends and is packed enough to put Cheesecake Factory to shame. The thing is, when you know what the crowd will be like, you need to hire enough competent servers to cover it. And it’d be nice if you trained them to at least pretend they don’t hate your customers.

Max Brenner gets an overly generous 3 stars since it is a chain. There is some element of endearment about a man, however creepy-looking he may be, who embraces his baldness. When that creeper crawls through your window, you can rest assured that he won’t be sporting a comb-over, and that alone is reason enough to earn a solid 3 stars.