I wanted to call this entry "The Heartbreak of Macarons" but really, the weekend was too good for that. We made a batch of macarons that would have been heartbreaking, had it not been so funny. "Self-filling", Kathleen called them, because the tops puffed up like lumpy four-leaf clovers, and then some of the batter oozed out in a puddle around the lump, looking like ganache gone terribly wrong. We made stacks of them and Lisa photographed them for a joke, but they didn't taste nearly as bad as they looked. Her canele, on the other hand - gorgeous, and delicious. Not a thing wrong with them. For the second batch of macarons, we stuck with vanilla and maybe the egg whites were a little overbeaten, but they were still surprisingly good, and each of us left Lisa's carefully cradling the two macarons that were our share of the tiny batch. I had one for breakfast this morning, maybe the other with hot tea for dessert tonight.
I didn't mean to stay out til one both nights this weekend, but I was having too much fun not too. I was in love all weekend, satisfied with all the people I was with, then today so happy on my own for a few hours. There was nothing bad except having forgotten my camera at work, and so much good, so many things to laugh about, so much good food to eat, all the right kinds of love and attention and happiness.