Le Macaron!

I am the daughter of a francophile. That is as plain and simple as it sounds. When I was 16 pop was going to London to perform a show. In the mind of a francophile a trip over the pond to the motherland actually means a weekend in Paris. This time, he was taking me and my older sister. When I left school early to get my passport picture taken I realized how much phile there was in this francophile.

Our trip was all the usual Parisian spots littered with stops at the haunts of the ex-pats. (He's a franchophile and a Hemingwayphile. One and the same?) We walked all over the place. Which means we kept passing bakeries. Almost every window of every patisserie was filled with little macarons. One shoppe stays in my mind so vividly. We unexpectedly turned a corner and a large expanse of windows revealed stacks and piles of pastel macarons. The delicate abundance of it all was beautiful! We were instantly in love. I always requested that we take the long way back to the hotel just to see them all lined up.

Macarons are little round almond, egg white cookies sandwiched together with ganache, buttercream or jam. They are a crisp substantive bite the melts away on your tongue.

These little treats have been a special bond for pop and me. We are constantly on the lookout for them anywhere we go.

Here is what I have found around this town of mine.

LA Burdick in Cambridge was the first stateside place I discovered them. We went for hot chocolate and chocolate mice with satin tales, and if that wasn't enough, I spotted the Macarons! What heavenly afternoons I have spent there! I have only been during the snow laiden winter months and don't know what the experience offers during warm, warmer and hot months. The handful of times I have been there mark memories from many different stages in life with different friends and family. all Only cozy feelings are conjured up when I think of being here (recently remodeled to feel even more french...which if I think about makes it feel a touch inauthentic... Luckily, I am forgetful!)

I had recently heard of Formaggio Kitchen, the sister to South End Formaggio (I mention it here.) This spot deserves so much more said about it. About 3 stores strung together, Formaggio Kitchen has so many decadent, unusual, interesting, fresh, and high end gastronomical delights. There is a reason it is in Huron Village of Cambridge. In the center, among ceiling high shelves of chocolates and sweets is a pastry case. In it are those beautiful macarons that take me to another place.

Finally, after an indulgent dinner at Aujour d'hui (to be discussed later) there was a macaron. This mignardise with the heavy check was light as air. (As confirmed with KK mignardise is the name of the sweet bite sent out at the end of a meal. The old french word means small child in noun form and something delicate, pretty and graceful as an adjective. A new favorite word? check that. )

I long to be good at making them. I have tried a few times and Martha's recipe really came through the best. The Cambridge School of Culinary Arts occasionally offers a whole class devoted to this delicate sandwich of a treat.

In conclusion, I can't say pop has rubbed off on me totally. Sometimes I need more than A Farewell to Arms can offer. But, at least I can say that I am a macaronphile. I think I can add that to his list too.

Picnics!

I think about them all winter: hang on to little jars that would be handy; tag recipes hoping I won't forget about them; write lists of good spots. In a den of daydreams these thoughts hibernate till the trees are light bright green and the weather pleasant.

Of course, the only things I could be talking about are PICNICS.

The winter jumped to summer for a week and I, well, I jumped at the chance. In the little heatwave with a funny day off, I packed a picnic. I chopped up some blackberries and strawberries, macerated them in a couple tablespoons of sugar and mint and put them in a jar.

Meanwhile, I made my favorite chocolate chip cookies, except, I didn't have chocolate chips. I chopped up an amalgamation of chocolate bars I had and tossing them in really improved the usual situation.

I had made a rhubarb ginger concentrate a couple weeks ago to help extend the rhubarb season in my life. In little bottles that I had drank the contents of months before and stowed away, I poured in some of the concentrate, seltzer, and a squeeze of lemon juice. Next, I cautiously gave them a shake for a quick refreshing soda.

Finally, I wrapped up a chunk of aged gouda (all-time favorite cheese) and put all the food in a basket along with utensils, a cheese cutter, napkins and a tablecloth. I picked up a baguette, goat cheese and pesto on my way over the river to meet SEM (also known to dream in picnics) over her lunch break. On a bench across from a cherry tree with this little spread between us, we talked of many things while watching people enjoy the scurry of their day in this unexpected weather.

I hope this is the first of many picnic menus posted here. Back to cloudy and slightly chilly days, I had to cancel a picnic last week (GA and I still had a fine lunch indoors) and am left waiting again.