I learned a new recipe tonight at Joan Rivers’ apartment: Smoked Salmon Crepes. Delicious.

I am so not giving the recipe away, but I will let you in on some other secrets I learned at Ms. Rivers’ East Side palace in NYC.

Wait. Pinch me. I was at JOAN RIVERS’ APARTMENT tonight!

She threw a party for all the millionaires who appear on her new TV Land PRIME show, How'd You Get So Rich? I got to go because, while I am not a millionaire, I am pretty and do have a Ferragamo tie, plus I was dying to know what would happen if you got all these “ordinary people who made big bucks” together in a room with guests like Hoda Kotb, Katie Couric and Joy Behar.

The first thing I noticed was the piano. Joan has a lovely spread of photos on top of the grand, some poignant snaps of her late husband Edgar, some frightening representations of her legendary '80s 'do. The pianist was playing — apropos of the evening — songs like “If I Were A Rich Man,” “We’re In the Money” and “Pennies From Heaven.” Speaking of heaven, Joan’s ceiling is painted like Hogwarts – with a sky and, I am convinced, an actual flying dove. It went with the trompe l’oeil of her foyer (oh, did I mention she’s one of those people who lives in a building where the elevator doors open into her own private foyer?). The only way I can describe said foyer is, well, ya know that part in Mary Poppins when they go into cartoon land and sing “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious”? Yeah, it’s kinda like that landscape behind the funny-looking people. And it was a jolly ‘oliday with Joanie.

When I took the elevator, I met one of the rich folk: George Boudreaux, who created butt paste. You know, the stuff you put on babies’ bottoms to prevent diaper rash. George and his wife are lovely, down-to-earth people (unlike some of Joan’s celebrity guests). Turns out he had been a pharmacist and created the paste to help people.

In fact, many of the wealthy folk on Joan’s show remind me of the "Schoolhouse Rock" song about Mother Necessity – how most inventions are borne from need. I met Gary Clegg, who created the Slanket because he was cold. His story, which I learned from his mother Marylyn, is a wonderful tribute to having both a need for a product and a mother who’s willing to store yards of fabric in her house and to sew. I’m not going to give the details away – you can watch episode 106 and hear his inspiring tale.

When I wasn’t chatting with the fabulous Marylyn or turning down hors d’oeuvres (I was afraid to eat for fear of smiling at Katie Couric with poppy seeds in my teeth), I spent some time eavesdropping. Some reporter had a mission to ask every newscaster guest in the room what she thought of Joan’s apartment. Rosanna Scotto apparently loves the chandelier but wouldn’t want the gilding in her house. Katie also made a comment about the gilding and got giddy at the mention of Joan’s bathroom. Myself, I have the second smallest bladder in the world, but fear of leaving the seat up kept me from seeing what a Riversesque john looks like.

Speaking of Johns, it took every fiber in my being not to go up to Jonathan Tisch and ask him to invest in my show. Hell, there were so many people in that room, even the producers of the Spider-Man musical could capitalize their multifrillion dollar budget. But I was a good boy. I kept my cool when Hoda and Joan each came over to Marylyn (the proud mother). Hoda took a picture with Marylyn, but Joan had a moment of PDD (Publicist Deficit Disorder) and was whisked away. Hoda is very tall. Seriously, I’m like 6 feet. I swear she’s Yao Ming in heels.

My favorite couple of the evening (other than a pair of clearly fake boobs I saw on some blond) was Joy Behar and radio diva Joan Hamburg, who arrived together as each other’s date. Joy told someone she came just so she could see the apartment. Joy: I think it, you speak it. And I love you for that. It makes up for the time when you told me I was too loud.

Because of this evening, I have a new goal in life. No, it’s not to be Donny Deutsch, who could pull off a blue shirt with white collars, but it is to emulate the rich folk on the show.

Joan toasted these people as the embodiment of the American Dream. It was an inspiration, leading me to believe more in my own ideas (why didn’t I think of butt paste!?), and in the ability to prosper from them.

Oh – that whole salmon thing? It was the only hors d’oeuvre I ate – and ate. And ate. They also had Croque Monsieurs, quesadillas and little polenta thingies. I refrained – and when I smiled at Katie (who has not aged, ever), my teeth were clean.

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