Morning Brief — Friday, July 11

I work in a charming, downtown neighborhood, which pretty much all of us see as a respite from the frenzy and crowds of midtown Manhattan.  The downside, though, is it is also a respite from those chains upon which we depend for sustenance (by which I mean Jamba Juice and Pinkberry).  Until now.

As I cruised by Editor’s office the other day, I spotted what looked suspiciously like a fro-yo container.  I leaned in.  Yes.  Remnants of a swirl and raspberries.  Upon further digging, Editorial Assistant informed me a Red Mango had opened a few blocks away from us!  (For those of you who have yet to buy into the Pinkberry / Red Mango phenomenon, this is, as I had to explain to an incredulous and skeptical Coach, how we both have dessert and stay in running shape.)

I have to admit I was a little disappointed by Red Mango’s mochi, which tastes less like pure sugar and more like rice (which of course it is).  Mochi, you may be interested to know, is traditionally eaten in Japan to celebrate the New Year.  The chewier the mochi the better, although this can cause problems going down, apparently.  It’s common knowledge in Japan that every year someone is taken to the hospital after choking on their New Year’s mochi.  (I’m pretty sure I read that in the Times years ago.  Either that or possibly I just made that up …)

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