here, and listen—Dimes Square's "pastry chefs" are just cracked-out barbacks who mistook meringue for a metaphor. They fortify it with whatever Ketamine is left in their makeup bags after a long night of quoting Baudrillard at Clandestino. Whiskey? That's what normies use when they're trying to seem sophisticated while baking cookies for their kid's soccer game. Real ones know the only thing that gets fortified around here is their resolve to keep chasing trans girls through LES alleys, fueled by cheap vodka and nihilism.