There are several rules you are tacitly agreeing to just by swinging open the vault-like door of the snow-white, ice-cold crypt of design that is Moss. The first rule, of course, is that you will not, under any circumstances, touch anything. Your children—and please take a moment to hang your head in shame for bringing them along in the first place—must be held at all times. And do remember that you are risking possible ejection should you even think about eating or drinking anywhere near items like Melissa Dixson’s taxidermied canis lupus.

Murray Moss has been known to bend the rules on that last one for his parties, serving only innocuous, quarter-filled glasses of white wine (which I whined about during the Los Angeles store opening). Still, each time a glass falls to the concrete floor—even with the design-conscious it’s bound to happen—I see him wince, or perhaps that’s the secret signal to dispatch the team of minions who quickly sweep away all memory of shattered glass, Men In Black-style.

Last night at Moss it was, at first blush, the same old scene. Philippe Starck and Sam Nazarian were there to hype their new SLS Hotels, in which Moss will have a store. Starck smiled, Nazarian shmoozed, glasses shattered, Moss winced, minions dispatched, but something was…different.

Moss served food.

Of course, this being Moss, he still wanted to curate the experience. That’s why if you wanted caviar wrapped in proscuitto, chef José Andrés had to prepare it for you.

Which meant placing it directly on your tongue.

We were allowed to self-administer other items like black squid ink olives. (No idea if these were actually olives or ink, by the way.)

Scallops in yuzu were delightfully citrusy without being too scalloppy.

Little plastic pouches of watermelon juice had grilled shrimp attached. Like a ceviche injection?

They called this a Spanish omelette. Eggs whipped to the consistency of clouds.

They said: Bagels and lox. I said: Caviar ice cream cones.

“Airbread” was balloons of dough, stuffed with some pretty intense cheese and that mouth-watering proscuitto.

And of course, your own personal mojito atomizer for a spritz between bites.

Moss even ventured into drinks of color, serving these orange gelatinous martinis. Some klutz near me ended up breaking one of those. After roughing her up a bit, they let her stay.

On the way out I was sure to thank the lovely Gita, who does PR for Moss. The food was amazing, I told her, and I took lots of pictures. “Good,” she said. “Because it’s never happening again.”

I was intrigued by the “sour, like it should be” frozen yogurt at Zabar’s—Dude! How come no one told me about Zabar’s?—and my sample was much better than Pinkberry, like it should be. But I got the frozen custard instead because, come on. Moments later I got caught in a downpour and ended up drinking my custard.

I’ve been seeing these places all over New York which I thought served some kind of magical soft-serve yogurt/gelato hybrid. Turns out the soft-serve is just regular old yogurt (sour, like it should be, and also better than Pinkberry), but they also have yogurt-based gelato! And I’m glad I went that route became I came up with the winning combination of Ferrero Rocher and coconut. It’s a Mounds bar!

These places are really all over New York: Tasti D-Lite. The most fascinating thing about Tasti D-Lite is not what it tastes like (chocolate and vanilla swirled air) rather it’s listening to everyone try to confirm their theories about how healthy it is. “How many calories in a cone of peanut butter fudge, do you think?” asked a guy with big arms and long curly hair. “250?” Honey, if you’re so worried, go home and have an apple.

More photographic treats, frozen or unfrozen.

One of my favorite magazines both to write for and about, GOOD, had a party last weekend here in NY. The theme was greenmarket gourmet! All the vendors were so cute and of course gave us many, many samples.

It was right on the East River and although it was oppressively moist, a nice breeze kicked up as the sun went down. To get there, I rode a bike over the Williamsburg Bridge for the first time.

Never before have I been so thrilled with the spread at a party. Sugar snap peas! Strawberries! Sausage! Heirlooms you could just pick up and eat like an apple! Honey lavender gin cocktails!

Come to think of it, I have been drinking a lot of gin this summer. Normally I would not touch the stuff. But there have been so many interesting drinks presented to me that include gin. I believe gin is in!

I thought this was so cute but after I took the photo the guy yelled at me, splashing cherry syrup in my direction to keep me from coming any closer. I guess he wasn’t supposed to be there or something.

Look honey, they have those new Oxymoron jeans!

The wild roosters of Delancey Street.

More urban wildlife right this way.

Suddenly I feel right at home.

Park Slope chimneys.

A pink Empire State building. Which a three-year-old friend of mine calls the “Entire State” building. Makes more sense, doesn’t it?

I got your New York photos right here.