Obsession...and a Dream Fulfilled

These are French macarons. Not like any old coconut macaroon. They are French almond macarons. Okay? There is a big, big difference. Because they are French.

Those of you who know me well, know that I have a mild to severe obsession with all things French. It comes and goes in waves and it all started back (way back) in high school, in French class of all places! Mr. Richards, the French teacher, or was it Richardson? Anyway, he would show us slides of his many trips to France. Others thought they were lame but at least there would be no homework, while I sat and dreamed that maybe someday I would go there too.

Last winter it hit me pretty hard. It was triggered by the Pink Panther's Penthouse Party cd the Scott bought me. Before long, I couldn't read enough about the French culture, history, fashion, dating habits, how they named their children,education system, cuisine, religious beliefs and music. I read and I read. And we (Scott was dragged, willingly into my obsession)watched French foreign films. I even tried to brush up on what little French I could remember from high school.

I grew herbs de Provence. Marjoram, savory, thyme, rosemary, sage and lavender. I used parsley religiously. Heck, I even wore high heels through an airport (I had to change planes in Detroit) on my trip to D.C. last April. All Parisian women wear high heels. That is why they are able to stay skinny and eat a ton of carbs each day.

I painted our bedroom a lovely shade of French blue. I decided that if by some miracle I had another baby I would name him Jon-Luc(John Luke). That's a very French name by the way! I shared my new knowledge of the French and their eating habits with my children. They loved the traditional French breakfast and the 4p.m. snack. One of Scott's favorite meals to this day is still just a baguette with tomato and olive oil. I had Scott convinced we should sell our house and move to the Cote d'Zure. To be missionaries to the people of Nice or Cannes.

Blogs such as Tongue in Cheek Living,French-Word-A-Day , Paris Daily Photo, and Paris Breakfasts became my favorite places on the web to hang out. Each blog contributed to my French education, helping me fulfill my need to know and understand how the Frenchie ticks.

Carol Gillott, from Paris Breakfasts and her obsession with Paris' pastry and chocolate shops introduced me to the French macaron. I thought I'd never get to try one. So imagine my surprise and delight to find a French macaron in a little tea and coffee kiosk at the Ala Moana Mall, in Hawaii! Oh my goodness. My hands were practically shaking as swiped my debit card to pay for the little treasures. I purchased one for each of us. The girls chose green tea flavored, the boys had guava. I had chocolate. Suddenly, I was nervous. I couldn't eat the little gem. What if it didn't live up to my expectations? It looked like a genuine macaron. But would I be able to handle the let down if they weren't all that I read them to be? My children had no such reservations, and before I could really make up my mind to eat it or not, theirs were gone. Devoured. I looked at Miss. M for some kind of sign. Were they good, bad, or was she thinking her mom is nuts? She gave me the look that said ,"that was really good, mom." I trust her. So, I gingerly bit into the crispy yet chewy goodness of the little French macaron. Yum. All I can say is yum. Yum, yum, yum.