Recently my sister-in-law came back from a trip to Egypt where she will be starting a whole new life soon. On the return trip, during her layover in Paris she saw some macarons (or bon-bons, as I like to call them) in a shop window, and brought them home to me. This was such an dear treat to me considering I've always wanted to try the decadent morsels that are featured in my blog banner, but never have. Almost the moment she walked in the door of our home she whipped out this gorgeous little gift bag and began to tell me how detailed the ritual of packaging these pretty little cookies were. Sure enough, as I opened the stately wrapping, there they were- sitting in their perfectly folded parchment, the tiny scroll of paper that tells about "l' histoire" of the patisserie Laduree perched on top, all royally housed in a small, exquisite box with a kingly seal on the cover. I was stricken. I was smitten....infatuated even, and I felt like a queen.
So I did a photo shoot- I couldn't resist:
I don't know what was sweeter to me- the bon-bons brought straight from Paris to my hands, or the thought that in the spin of mental, emotional, and physical activity that comes with uprooting and rearranging her entire life my darling friend and sister had me, of all things, on her mind.
Actually I do.