i had sworn that i would not be eating a single cake once i arrived back in sydney, but today, a whole week since i landed, i walked into zumbo and counterboy handed me a big, fat, welcome-back macaron.
“have you tried this?” he asked casually, before continuing ominously, “you’re not allergic to anything, are ya?”
it was a potent mix of savoury and sweet — truly, savoury and then sweet — with a definite grittiness in the heart of the filling.
“um. is it some sort of thai salad macaron?” i asked.
turns out it was white truffle and praline. of course! that comforting, earthy aroma, heady and musky. i’m sure it would have worked fine on its own. the hidden slab of praline was nice and all… but brain-jarringly sweet. today was the first time ever that i was glad the kid was around to share the macaron; i do not think i would have been able to get through it otherwise.
and not just because i’d had my fill of the damn things while i was eating my way through paris. and not just because i had sworn not to eat cake.
in paris, i ate macarons from laduree, gerard mulot and pierre herme. (in london i ate macarons from yauatcha. well, technically, in london i also ate the pierre herme macarons that i’d bought on my last morning in paris.) the macarons were: salted butter caramel, chocolate, pistachio, passionfruit-basil, ginger, raspberry-chocolate, nougat, rose, pistachio, chestnut-maccha, chocolate-caramel, olive oil-vanilla, white truffle-hazelnut, black truffle, balsamic vinegar, fig-foie gras, pandan, chocolate-jasmin, vanilla-black sesame, raspberry-lychee, saffron-something… and a few others…
i would like to tell you about these, i really would, but i arrived home to a growing stack of emails, telling me about all the work i could be doing, to earn the money to replenish the dwindled reserves, which is sort of what happens when you remember — wrongly — that 1 euro is worth 1.2 australian dollars (instead of 1.6 australia dollars).
no regrets though, as i sit here with my 22 bars of european chocolate and my shiny red foldup shopping trolley bag and my vintage “ivory”-handled bread knife. my jars of green mustards. my sneakers and my comic books.
my three weeks of cake fat.
10 Comments
wowee ..
welcome back!
hellooooo welcome back oh how ive missed your posts! the fig foie gras macaron sounds awesome
Welcome back!! so jealous you got to try so many flavours of PH macaroons!
Looking forward to more of your posts (even if there is no cake!)
Welcome back!!
And the macaroons are smiling
welcome back!
Good to have you back. I’m green with envy at those gorgeous macarons you’ve scoffed. BTW, when he tasted the white truffle/praline macaron, the bf said “Um, I think it’s off”!
welcome back!
hmmm…three weeks of cake fat, and still 22 chocolate bars in inventory. i can see some treadmill action coming soon. or perhaps a few nice strolls.
happy new year. xk
Yay you’re back! I don’t know if I would classify macaron as cake, so technically, you’re still safe.
a thai salad macaon! lol!
welcome back. and pah, that’s not cake fat. that’s pure muscle from selfless commitment to research. truly.
hello, everyone! thanks!
suze: it was awesome! the filling was essentially a seedy figgy paste with a chunk of unadultarated foie gras in the heart of it. i think i made it last over three days.
belle: ha! i love that earthy smell. and here’s the thing: the kid won’t eat mushrooms, but she was happy to eat half that macaron, which was more pungent by far. perhaps i should add a few tablesppons of sugar to the pan the next time i cook mushrooms.
krissie: yes, must get back on the treadmill. i did attempt a swim on friday, but gave up after a pathetic 15 laps.
Y: oh, you are kind!
i don’t suppose a danish counts as cake either? i have been hankering for one. 
helen: you are kind too! but i just tried to flex those muscles, and they wobbled.