Macarons. I don’t like them. I want to like them. I have tried to like them. I have tried to like them so much that I am blogging about them but I.. just..don’t. On occasion, when presented with the opportunity, I will take a nibble. Hoping that somehow a fledgling taste bud will have popped up somewhere in my mouth, finally gratifying my need to like this flaky, chewy treat. Call me crazy, but somehow I feel I would be a cooler person if only I liked macarons. So far, no such luck.
Yet I am forever inspired by this ….cookie. Really, a cookie? Actually, it is a wee bit of an obsession. Whenever I travel and pass a bakery, I just have to peer in the window for a quick visual fix. Perhaps it can be chalked up to my love of all things French? Really, I just adore their rich saturated colors, the neat little rows, cookies all snuggled up together. I mean, who doesn’t like looking at a box of macarons? They are always packaged so beautifully, as if they are just waiting for all the beautiful people to come buy them and whisk them away. If I were a macaron, I would be stuck up….because I could be.
So, I will wait patiently for my palette to step it up and delight in this little piece of culinary perfection. In the meantime, I will pay homage to the mighty and mystical macaron the only way I know how…. by championing its beauty, its history, and the culinary creativity inherent in its making.
Images courtesy of The Die Line – Gourmet Baking – The Proper Blog – Deer Pearl Flowers