MACARONS!

When we lived in Phoenix a few years ago I went one day to a place I had heard about called The French Grocery.

It was a provider of French foodstuffs, a bakery, a wine shop, a bar and a restaurant, all under one roof.

I went because I had heard they sold macarons.

***A slight interruption here to explain something to the culinarily-deprived citizens of the U.S.  These are macarons, pronounced mac-uh-rohns.  They are distinctly different from the American cookie known as macaroons, pronounced mac-uh-roons.  I only explain this because I have heard the French sandwich cookies mispronounced so often and because I am a self-righteous prig.***

So I bought a dozen assorted macarons and brought them home.

Judy loved them as did I.

But when she learned what I had paid for them she said "I can make those for a lot less money!"

And she did.

For those of you among my Gentle Readers who have never enjoyed a macaron I have only pity.

They are wonderful!

O.K. so maybe they aren't quite as "neat" as those from the French Grocery but as I heard a pastry chef say this week as he smoothed the edges of a frozen souffle "we pastry chefs are perfectionists, you know."

Actually I thought her second batch came pretty darned close to that "perfection".

And, what the hell, the taste was spot on.

Well, all of this came up because I was going through the many food pictures I have accumulated over the years of this blog . . . editing some, dumping others and ran across these pictures . . and memories.

Which brings me to another story.

In spite of my friend Baseball Steve, who called me this week to inquire if I was up to 300 pounds yet because he had been seeing pictures on my blog of all the wonderful food Judy makes for me, I don't eat massively anymore.

I was out this morning and got a teensy breakfast sandwich at a fast food place.

Then early this afternoon, I made a sandwich at home for my lunch.

And I was through.

I told Judy that I didn't really think I wanted any dinner and would take care of myself (So far that's only been a vodka-and-water or two.  Or more.)

She, on the other hand, has been dining on some fine microwave popcorn and sending fumes through the house.

But, pure as my intentions were, as I went through the photos in my Food file I began to develop a burgeoning appetite.

However, I am the soul of goodness.

Besides we don't have any macarons in the house.

I think I'll go see if Judy has any popcorn left over.