My daughter and I wanted to go to New York in the worst way. So we took the Chinatown bus. OK, it's an old joke. And for 10 bucks apiece, you can hardly complain about the dirty bathroom, the sticky floor, and the drafty air. We were going down for a shopping and chocolate trip, and we preferred to spend our money there, not en route.
It's not often these days that I get more than a rushed conversation with my daughter, a high school senior. So a 24-hour outing with her seemed like a luxury indeed: no friends, no cellphone, no TV. We planned our trip around the Sixth Annual Chocolate Show, held for four days every November. I snagged a great deal, thanks to a blurb I'd noticed in a magazine. The Washington Square Hotel (103 Waverly Place, 212-777-9515, www.washingtonsquarehotel.com) was offering a special chocolate package: For $169, we'd get a room, tickets to the chocolate show -- ''the world's largest" -- a welcoming cup of hot chocolate, a goodie bag apiece consisting of several upscale chocolates, and a huge breakfast the next morning.
Any chocolate field trip to New York would not be complete without a stop at Jacques Torres Chocolate, a shop and factory in Brooklyn Heights (66 Water St., 718-875-9772, www.mrchocolate.com). So, when the Chinatown bus lets us out on the Bowery, we duck into a restaurant for a plate of noodles, then hail a cab to the quaint little shop in the shadow of the Brooklyn Bridge. Torres is the one on Food Network who makes wondrous sculptures from chocolate; he's an artiste. Because it's late afternoon, there are just a few other customers here, including two women fresh from the airport, rolling their luggage behind them.
Torres himself is not at the shop -- he's at the Chocolate Show. But we don't need him, anyway. We just need a cup of his famous hot chocolate; it's ultra creamy and rich, and on this particular day, holds a hint of orange. It's made with chocolate, not cocoa powder, and chocolate ''commander" (so says her smock) Kris Kruid tells us that if you let it sit for a while, it will solidify. But no one lets this concoction sit long enough to find out.
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While we're sipping, we walk around looking at the beautifully packaged tins of chocolate powder, the chocolate-covered peanut brittle, the buttery shortbread drizzled with chocolate, the counter where a knowledgeable customer is pointing to the gorgeous chocolates while an assistant fills a box for her. We take a basket and follow her lead. Through a glass window, we watch chocolate-covered peanut butter coming off a belt; Torres built the factory next door so that customers could see the stuff being made. (The factory also makes peanut butter and all the pastes.)
Our purchases in hand, we decide to walk back to Manhattan. It's dusk as we climb onto the Brooklyn Bridge walkway, and the lights of the city are coming on. To our left is the Statue of Liberty; to our right, the Empire State, Chrysler, and Citicorp buildings. Even my teenager is duly impressed.
When we finally check into our hotel, that complimentary cup of hot chocolate is a welcome treat. Ditto for the free bags of chocolate: Besides the high-end mini-bars, there are chocolate espresso beans and miniature bottles of Vermeer Dutch chocolate liqueur. The rooms are comfortable, the lobby charming, and the location perfect: smack in the heart of Greenwich Village. We head down to SoHo to begin the shopping part of our trip. Unfortunately, some of the big chains have moved into the 'hood, but there are still plenty of boutiques, some of them actually affordable. My daughter checks out The Mystique Boutique (212-274-0645), which a friend recommended, and is delighted to find bargains. The streets of SoHo are alive with pedestrians, the cafes alluring.
It's late when we head back up to the hotel, which has a lovely bistro named North Square (212-254-1200, www.northsquareny.com), since it's on the north side of Washington Square Park. It's a cozy space with dark wood and Art Deco paintings. The chef is Mexican born and French trained, the food well prepared and presented, and you don't have sticker shock when the bill arrives.
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The next morning, after a hearty (and free) breakfast in the hotel's coffee shop, we walk up to the Metropolitan Pavilion on West 18th Street, where the chocolate show is being held. We enter to a fashion display, with mannequins decked out in ''clothes" made of chocolate, including a Playboy Bunny getup. Some 60 exhibitors have set up booths and are giving away samples and hawking wares. I feel like a kid in a giant candy store.
My daughter and I wander around, sampling, buying, marveling. We look in on cooking demonstrations and visit an exhibit by the Cote d'Ivoire, which was the first cocoa producer in the world. We talk to Bernard Callebaut about his chocolate while popping samples into our mouths. We schmooze with artist Michael Singletary, whose paintings portraying chocolate are displayed on a wall. We buy the most gorgeous chocolates at the Ethel M counter. We taste chocolate chai from The Chocolate Bar. We buy a chocolate Eiffel Tower from Boissier. We consider getting our chocolate fortunes told, but are too full. Finally, we stumble out on the red-carpeted sidewalk, totally sated. I put my arm around my daughter, and we make plans to return next year.
But still, there's one little shop nearby I want to show her. She protests. Still, I steer her toward Li-Lac Chocolates in the Village (120 Christopher St., 212-242-7374). You ought to taste their truffles.
Bella English can be reached at english@globe.com. All Along, her column on family travel, appears the second Sunday of the month.
