Hello Fellow Travelers!
Today I'm going to wax "on" (and on) about two things I adore: Alfred Hitchcock movies of the 50's and macaroons that are perfection. So if this is too feminine for you, too fey (and I don't mean Tina) step off! Cause, here I go!
One of the strangest effects that has changed me irrevocably since 2011 is my ferocious sweet tooth. It's really unusual since I spent my entire pre-brain surgery life avoiding sugars and desserts altogether. In 2012 my Patient Spouse made me cookies and occasionally brought me hard candy. After a painful visit or two to the dentist (a lifetime of perfect dental reports ruined in one year!), PS quit bringing me candy.
I subsequently lost most of my interest (and all my ability) in consuming anything salty or snacky. My longing for perfect desserts goes on unabated. I stopped any alcohol consumption years ago. I think a lot about Kahlua and Amaretto now in terms of how they would taste in a cookie!
Cookies just make everything more fun! I shared this thought with my best friend who had been inventing cookies in her kitchen to suit my very particular flavor profiles and then I had an idea that originated with a computer game her son had invented and we played! The name of the game is Hop Away: Never Smore, so my friend humored me by looking for a smore recipe in a cookie. The closest she came was finding a smore flavored macaroon.
One day recently the UPS guy delivered a box that was packed with a red, zippered cooler, ice, tissue, and a pink box containing the most beautiful, perfect macaroons on the planet. This was truly something Grace Kelly would have had delivered to Jimmy Stewart in "Rear Window". My friend's point (and mine too) is that we could spend all year trying to replicate these delicate masterpieces and never come close. There is, however, a baker in Beverly Hills who can make an entire rainbow of these amazing confections and they deliver!
PS - No, I have nothing to say about "the butt that broke the internet". And no, I don't live under a rock. (Well, maybe I do and maybe I don't but I still have nothing to say!
Today I'm going to wax "on" (and on) about two things I adore: Alfred Hitchcock movies of the 50's and macaroons that are perfection. So if this is too feminine for you, too fey (and I don't mean Tina) step off! Cause, here I go!
One of the strangest effects that has changed me irrevocably since 2011 is my ferocious sweet tooth. It's really unusual since I spent my entire pre-brain surgery life avoiding sugars and desserts altogether. In 2012 my Patient Spouse made me cookies and occasionally brought me hard candy. After a painful visit or two to the dentist (a lifetime of perfect dental reports ruined in one year!), PS quit bringing me candy.
I subsequently lost most of my interest (and all my ability) in consuming anything salty or snacky. My longing for perfect desserts goes on unabated. I stopped any alcohol consumption years ago. I think a lot about Kahlua and Amaretto now in terms of how they would taste in a cookie!
Cookies just make everything more fun! I shared this thought with my best friend who had been inventing cookies in her kitchen to suit my very particular flavor profiles and then I had an idea that originated with a computer game her son had invented and we played! The name of the game is Hop Away: Never Smore, so my friend humored me by looking for a smore recipe in a cookie. The closest she came was finding a smore flavored macaroon.
One day recently the UPS guy delivered a box that was packed with a red, zippered cooler, ice, tissue, and a pink box containing the most beautiful, perfect macaroons on the planet. This was truly something Grace Kelly would have had delivered to Jimmy Stewart in "Rear Window". My friend's point (and mine too) is that we could spend all year trying to replicate these delicate masterpieces and never come close. There is, however, a baker in Beverly Hills who can make an entire rainbow of these amazing confections and they deliver!
PS - No, I have nothing to say about "the butt that broke the internet". And no, I don't live under a rock. (Well, maybe I do and maybe I don't but I still have nothing to say!
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