Apparently macarons – yes, they’re macarons if we’re going for Frenchly-named-fancies and not-a-coconutty-mess-macaroons – are PRETty tricky to make and thats why they cost about two quid each. Hmmmmm. Having mastered bechamel sauce and become a veritable yoghurt factory of late, my kitchen was in need of a new challenge, and luckily I had two foody friends well up for giving them a go.
One lo-o-o-ng Thursday afternoon, copious amounts of tea, one Swede dancing round this kitchen singing ‘it looks like poop!’ and three bouts of uncontrollable giggles later we managed to produce these bad boys:
Petra and I each had macarons for breakfast. One of THE best perks of being a grown-up.