Starbucks has this incredible new drink of the season. It’s a salted caramel hot chocolate that stole my heart. I discovered it one frosty fall stroll in Portland on an impromptu road trip with Alan to celebrate a new job offer that later turned sour. The barristers shake this seasoning mix over the cream topping, that leaves you with a salty mustache you can’t stop licking.
This afternoon, we braved a buzzing Williams Sonoma down at Union Square, and I made Alan buy me roasted chestnuts from a red-nosed vendor. It was icy – with air that felt as thoough it had come directly off the snowy mountain tops. On entering the store, we were treated to spicy, sickly sweet hot cider that warmed my chest and made me want to ask the stiff elderly lady serving them for a second. The cider I am used to is spiked, but in the US it’s served straight.
We rounded the corner slapbang into a crowd oohing and aahing over the Macy’s Holiday Windows. Every year they handpick the cutest and most endearing of the SPCA’s puppies and kittens, which they plop into little street scenes designed to encourage the process of adoption. On the way back to the carpark, we had to fight our way through armies of santa clause – the dressup theme of holiday parties in 2008.
On getting home, I put on those frivolous carols and a pot of leftover mulled wine , or glogg, from last night’s successful game night that went on till dawn. It’s an old trick I use to remind me of the magical night I met Alan. He was a a mutual friend’s plus one at my Christmas party 4 years ago. With both of us recovering from breakups, we sampled the welcome mulled wine together and broke the ice. Overindulgence of this potent, merry drink was blamed for many a mishap, reunion, and missed flight that weekend. Mulled wine has a long history that dates back as far as 500BC where spices and herbs were added to their sour spolied wine for both health reasons, and of course, to make it drinkable once again. I first discovered this delicious beverage that warms the very soul at lunchtimes on the Swiss ski slopes. We owe gluhwein, as it is known in Europe, a debt of gratitude as Alan and I look forward to celebrating our first wedding anniversary this month. 
