I should have written this post a long time ago. Maybe I just avoided it because these little round desert cushions are so hard to find. Macarons, crisp on the outside, smooth and soft in the middle are the biggest inventions of the Paris-based bakery Laduree. Working in the family business it was the founder’s cousin Pierre Desfontaines who have thought of creating the first macaron with a ganache filling in the middle. According to Laduree once prepared the macarons are put aside for two days to be hardened and served to its customers. I have first tried this unavoidable desert in the famous Champs-Elysees store randomly in the summer of 2004. The light green color of the bakery glittered with yellow gold looked really inviting. Once we were inside it was bakery heaven with tens of different kinds of deserts displayed over a long cold marble with hundreds of different flavored macarons decorating one corner. I can’t remember how many times we have devoured numerous macarons on the chairs outside the bakery. I believe I tried every flavor to be able to say that the vanilla macaron is certainly the best.
Contrary to my previous post where I basically disagreed with everything you said about movie theaters, you have brought a topic with which I couldn’t agree more. There once was a time when I once thought I wanted to be a poet and believed I had a great relationship with words and how I was able to make them sound so much prettier than they actually were. That dream soon evaporated when I realized poets don’t live long and starve most of the time. But during my extensive self-training back in the day, I learned many ways to describe things that I love so much that a simple “amazing”, “incredible” wouldn’t suffice.
LADY MACAROON
If I had my own land
Filled with waterfalls and sand
With smurfs for people and no one bland
Close your eyes, cuz this will be grand
***
Babies would be born
Into lollipops and candy corn
No one would ever feel
Doubt, fear, worry or anything real
Cotton Candy would be a prize
For the ladies, who would ignore size
Chocolate would pour through our house
Endless and milky, never a rouse
Gummy bears for wedding rings
Oh so much sugar, all the bells ring
But behold, for this is where we sing…
What will this land be without magic
Her name is Macaroon, and her story isn’t tragic
She appears in vanilla, pistachio and rose
She’ll devour and crumble your prose
Her creamy inside is a secret only she knows
Don’t believe me, go ask the pros
Beauty is all colors, purple, green, pink
A taste of heaven if you can just think
Don’t look, you’ll melt with a blink.
I, Queen of my Land, love her best
When she’s only my guest,
Caramel she tastes, caramel she smells
“I’m all yours!” she yells
And that’s how my story ends…