earl grey salted caramel macarons [recipe linked]
I made these during a weekend in Fresno, when I went home to pick up my puppy and for the first time in my life, had the entire house that I grew up in to myself. Of course, the only place in the house that really mattered to me was the kitchen, and that was where I spent most of my time alone. It was an overcast weekend, with grey skies, no breeze, and a serenity about our garden. Minnie kept me company in the kitchen as I methodically measured out the almonds and sugar, ground them to a fine powder, and whipped my egg whites into tall peaks. I folded my batter in silence and carefully piped out little rounds on my silpats. I was in my own little world, dusted in sugar from head to toe.
I love these little things--maybe even more making them than eating them. I revel in the preciseness of the process. I love watching the rows of perfectly lined-up macarons grow their little feet in the oven. There's almost nothing I enjoy more, and all the while, Norah Jones would be playing in the background.
There really is no other point to this post. There are no recipes, no new tips--just a little insight on my affection for macarons. Also, I'm rarely as proud as I am of these photos. This was the first time I felt like I connected with my new DSLR. It did exactly what I wanted it to do, and I was so happy with these pictures, I could've kissed my lenses. Is that weird?
These little beauties are all gone now. But don't fret, there will be some more at Scoops Westside tomorrow!