OK, actually, that's kind of the only embarrassing admission. Other than that I cannot figure out how to spell the word "embarrassing.
I know, it's giving Marie Antoinette a run for her money. It's fattening. It's absurd. It's unconscionable.
But I really love chocolate. Like in a daily, shoot it in your veins kind of way. And Montreal's Suite 88 has the best choc ever. OK, it has some competition, but it stands up.
After a lovely dinner at L'Express (lobster risotto!) we walked a couple of stores north to sample the thick, salty hot chocolate beverage for which the place is famous - at least as far as I'm concerned. It was a drug trip.
Needless to say I bought one of everything in the store (and then another for M), as did Scott and Nicole, and when the bills were tallied we'd gone super nova.
I seriously - seriously - tried to make it last longer than the 2 days it usually lasts. (Fine, 8 hours, whatever.) I made it to 3. Ah, to be moderate...