We wrapped it all up at a great little French Bistro in Silverlake called Cafe Stella with a nice glass of port just to cap off the evening. Trish, who's categorically incapable of passing up an opportunity to mess with bartenders, cajoled him into bringing a little desert even though the kitchen was closed. As he went back to see if he could find a piece of cheese, she shouted after him, "No, I changed my mind, I want chocolate." So out he came with a little pot de creme, but the chef saw it and said, oh no, that won't work, grabbed it, took it back into the kitchen, and returned with whipped cream and raspberries on it. Turns out, he went to NYU and lived in Alphabet City for years.
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