Macaron note cards and sweet obsessions

The problem with writing each day in a journal is that some ideas keep popping up. Sometimes these ideas pop up for years and won't let you go. This is the case with my new macaron note cards now, finally, available in the shop.

How many times have I written in the margins of my journal: Create macaron note card. Hundreds! I'm not sure why they have haunted me so. I'm not sure why I haven't created them yet, but when a friend requested them as her thank you cards for a recent shower, I finally did it. Voila! Done and done. *happy dance*

I love painting macarons but I don't really like eating most of them. Sometimes the taste combinations are too bizarre, too sweet, too fruity or flowery, or pistachio. As you can see from this horrid little video I took when I first arrived in Paris.

Nice still shot for the cover photo. Oh dear. I called them "macarooooons" like the coconut haystacks of my youth. Rookie error. It's especially horrible when people leave comments about my rookie moves. How was I to know?!?!?!

My friend Sandro from Rome (who also INSISTED I call him Sandro in my book, Paris Letters) gave me a stern talking to when I told him I basically only tried hazelnut gelato when I was in Rome. He shook his head and told me I owed it to myself, to the artists who make gelato, and to Rome itself, to try other flavours. He was right. I soon discovered that Pear gelato was a refreshing delight. This is Sandro being smiley before he got all serious about gelato...

Oh how I miss the me with long hair. Here is a chemo-do, taken the other day on Amélie's birthday...

Christophe is a handsome fella. And Amélie is taking her new 2 year old status in (fast) stride. I digress. Back to the macarons. So I tried many macarons. Here are the lovely staff at Ladurée before they yelled at me for taking the photo...

So I took photos outside, flushed with embarrassment and high on sugar.

I even made four Paris Letters, all extolling the study of les macarons.

And yet... at the end of it all. After all the taste testing, all the painting and writing, dealing with comments on my rookie YouTube video years later, these tiny treats have haunted me. I just can't stop painting them. Finally, the note cards exists. I spent half the day yesterday just tucking the new cards into the pink envelopes because it looked neat and pleasing.

Very Kondo. Tidy tidy tidy.

I've also come to one conclusion that you'll probably not like.

Vanilla.

If a boutique can perfect vanilla, they are worth it. If not, keep on trucking.

*the world shakes its head in disbelief. First a government shutdown, then the yellow vests, now this?!*

Vanilla is the hazelnut gelato of the macaron world. It really is that good. Or it can be. You've got to taste them all to find out. Not all macaron are created equal. That said, a note card of just vanilla macarons doth not a pretty note card make, so I painted up the pretty ones.

Including pistachio. Italians have a saying, which applies to the pistachio macaron: Bello ma non balla. He's pretty but he can't dance.

That's kind of how I feel about most macaron flavours, but they sure are pretty. Even pronouncing the names feels good on the tongue. Here is a digital macaron note card over at my Paris Printables shop. Tagline: Digital downloads for your printing pleasure.

Griotte! Menthe! Citron! Even Pistache has a certain panache when said out loud. But Vanille, oh sweet vanille, sounds good on the tongue and tastes good on it too.

I'm hoping that my macaron note card creation will finally break me free of the spell of painting them. After all, there is a lot of France to paint.