when we arrived back in london from paris, the box of macarons we bought was almost full (yeah, i ate the row of broken ones on the train). within a day it was totally empty. a month later we bought some more at harrods. by the end of the night? gone. then two weeks ago in brighton we found a french patisserie within the first five minutes of our trip, and we ate most of the macarons right then & there (we did take a few with us on the rollercoasters & they stayed mostly in tact!) sigh. some things are just too light-filled for their own good. so last week, recognizing we couldn't actually afford a macaron habit, i finally found a used copy of i love macarons & gifted it to Z! soon we'll baking away at our very own sugar-sparks! i'll let you know how it goes, particularly in light of our weird half-oven that Z accidentally cleaned the temperature numbers off of in an odd fit of vigor & vim. in other words, wish us luck!p.s. my friend couldn't remember the name of these little confections at a party recently, and kept calling them pastel hamburgers. how awesome is that?
I have decided macarons are to Europe what girlscout cookies are to Americans, namely after-dinner crack.
ReplyDeleteYou have to tell me how it goes. I want to make them but I just don't trust my baking skills (lack thereof).
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