fiddly lil' dahlings

Macaroons, Macarons, honestly, I don’t think I care….


So, I ended up with, like ten eggwhites from making the lapis legit. The plan was really to make some macarons and honestly, I think the family was hoping I’d just get over the fanciful idea of making something prettiful and just make some mixed berries pavlova. But I was a woman on a mission and afterall, I had already been to Lakeland and purchased my very first icing set and also liquid food colour. Now bearing in mind, this occurred literally days before the Tea Party and really I should have been concentrating on the Tea Party instead. But like I said, I was a woman on a mission.

Oh, and you gotta excuse me. I am writing this post Tea Party. I have so much sugar and butter in my system, I am literally oozing sweet dough from my pores. My eyes are bleary, I swore blind to Spiker that it must be my thyroid acting up and she very sensibly suggested that I might have just been snorting too much icing sugar and just having periodic pre-diabetic episodes.

So, anyway, back to these macarons. Mixing it up was easy enough. Drawing the 3cm circles on the baking parchment on the other hand reminded me why I never did get on to that architecture degree program I applied too, despite me thinking I had all the skills necessary because I could actually draw an apple properly during arts class. However, I simply cannot use a protractor. End of. In the end, I gave up and decided that surely, I can gauge what 3cm look like.

Piping the macaroon mix on the other hand was a task and a half. The first battle was to get the actual mix into the piping bag. Once I got there, it was pretty straight forward, if I am to discount the occasional macaron mix farts that disrupted the process. The part that I cannot get over was how messy my hands were getting and I know that with practice, the mess factor would be greatly reduced. But you know what, I have a phobia (along with the honeycombe one I secretly hide up until now). I bloody hate having messy hands and feet*.

So I rushed through this process and really this is how the little dahlings looked like before they went in.

Polkadots gone wrong

I must have sat on the floor watching them for about 15 minutes. Thankfully, my OCD kicked in about two weeks ago and my kitchen floor has been doused with Dettol about twice a day by this time. Anyway, I digress…

This is how they looked like when they came out.

Shiny, shiny

I think they look pretty alright. Not quite as pink as I would like them to be but I was still playing around with the food colouring. Let’s not talk about the purple ones that ended up being gun metal grey. I told my son that they were the boy’s version of the macarons.

* No feet were involved in the making of these dahlings

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