Posted on 31/03/07
Remembrance of macaroons past
Marcel Proust had his petites madeleines. I have my macaroons. For Proust, the scalloped-shaped buttery cake -- especially when dipped into tea -- elicited a rush of unparalleled pleasure, so much so that he was able to tap into his clammed-up consciousness. This is no Remembrance of Things Past, and I cannot confirm or deny that macaroons contain psychoanalytic ingredients, but April for me is never the cruellest month, if only because it ushers in the arrival of my favourite dessert.
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