saturday afternoon I was patiently taught the art of making the french macaron at one of my favorite places in the world. while I have to admit I signed up for the photo ops, I now understand the love affair that so many have with this little jewel. I am so not a baker {the necessary preciseness makes me crazy} and macarons are about as far as you can travel from my slice-and-bake cookie philosophy, but I sit here this morning utterly seduced. and committed to creating them again and again.I realize that the quirky macaron is very much like the kind of people I'm drawn to: colorful, unique, engaging of the senses and capable of igniting flashes of imagination. its sugary-almond {-lemon, -chocolate, -raspberry, -violet, -pistachio....} scent pulls me in; its bite is both crackly eggshell fragile and gooey soft at once. and oh. my. stars. the taste. {somehow I imagined the taste would be a disappointment...I mean really, how can one little cookie deliver on all fronts?} the taste is unbelievably delicious and instantly transformative {see me: standing alone in saint-germain-des-prés having l'expérience française total}. I am in love.
thank you kathleen for introducing us, for teaching me, for your humor and energy and encouragement and bottles of wine and celebration of even the wonky lemon macaron.
