ladies.
there is a tiny shop next to the pub across the road from the supermarket in balmain, where, up until quite recently, you could buy orthopaedic footwear or health socks or heart moniters. to be honest, i’m not even certain that this is what the shop used to sell, because i never looked too closely. and then it closed, and the shopfront was all boarded up, and a couple weeks ago it seemed like there was a flurry of dusty shopfitting going on, but i didn’t give it too much thought beyond, “ooh, they’re putting in a counter. i guess it’ll be a cafe.” because of course, balmain needs more cafes.
this afternoon as i barrelled past with a hessian bag of groceries on a shoulder and a crate of nappies under an arm, i registered in my periphery a vision in pink. in the shop window, it seemed that biscuits — bright pink biscuits — had been attached to a wire frame in the shape of an egg. it was a large three-dimensional egg, and there were yellow chicks about. as i got closer (and closer!), it became painfully clear (o exquisite pain!) that the biscuits were actually unsandwiched macaron halves. [edit 11/04: and also, i have just walked past again to have another look, and what i had originally thought to be yellow chicks are actually yellow macarons, painted with bold black stripes, and sandwiched with wings! bumblebees!]
i peered through the window, and was momentarily confused, because there appeared to be only a single pastry in the display case inside. but then curiousity got the better of me and i entered, to discover that the counter running the length of the shop (more of a corridor, really) did hold a small selection of rather lovely-looking little cakes after all. no macaron though; perhaps they had all been used up for the window decoration. perhaps, like the rest, they had sold out in brisk holiday trade?
a cute italian boy ran the shop. he had a little steel dumbbell through his eyebrow. “do you make all this?” i asked. he did: cakes, tarts, viennoiserie, chocolates, and perhaps… macaron. the name of the shop is adriano zumbo. that’s him.
i asked if he made macaron regularly. he said that he did, just not over the holiday weekend, and that every day there would be two flavours for consideration. and did he make exotic flavours too? yes, occasionally. he said that macaron didn’t seem to be as wildly popular in sydney as they are overseas. it’s the new cupcake, i said, and also no-one really sells them here. there is the lindt shop, i said. he retorted, as though it were a bad thing, that theirs are mainly chocolate-based. and then i told him that i used to go to beb on broadway, but they seemed to have closed their shop. he looked surprised, and pleased, briefly. he said that when he goes to france, he eats nothing but macaron, they are so good.
the walls of the shop are grungy, painted mute colours over brick. the floor is recycled wooden floorboards, polished to a golden sheen. [edit 20/04: the other wall is recycled wooden floorboards, polished to a golden sheen. the floor is polished concrete, painted red.] the counter is plain white, topped — jewellery-shop-style — with a clear display case. from this case i bought his last envie: a tart of raspberry and dark chocolate ganache (the pate sucree is crisp and fine, the filling is lush and smooth with tart, squishy raspberry surprises all the way through). and for good measure, a raspberry-dark chocolate truffle (might have to leave this one until tomorrow). all for a little over $6.
if you catch the 442 from town hall, you could be there in under 20 minutes.
