I have told you before that I kind of have a crush on french macaroons.
French macaroons are delicate parcels of crunchy/chewy/light/exotic all in one. They have a certain mystique about them, not least because they are incredibly tricky to bake.
I have told you before about my wild success with the muse of macaroons. But this is a different story.
I made some. They were for guests, on a special “everything should be lovely” day. I followed the recipe carefully, methodically, almost tremulously.
Or shall I say, they didn’t work.
To this day, I’m not sure what happened. Rather than forming the smooth shiny top and crinkly foot on the bottom of the cookie, they puffed up and cracked all the way through. Every single one.
I was crestfallen. (They take a fair amount of planning, and a lot of mental energy, these blasted cookies) and they didn’t work.
I didn’t have time to make another batch.
I almost didn’t serve them.
When my husband said, “But Skyler, how do they taste?”
“Fantastic.” I replied.
Vanilla macaroons with salted caramel gnache, topped with a chipotle cinnamon sea salt. Recipe courtesy of this genius baker….(thank you.)
They really did taste amazing.
So after what probably should have been an unnecessary conversation, my amazing partner convinced me to indeed serve my puffy, cracked, delicious, “failed” macaroons.
And they were a hit.
So there is this.
There are times when our best efforts, our careful planning and execution, the best of what we have, will come up short. Imperfect humans we are.
Let’s serve it up anyway. It may even be delicious.