Picture this. Lightly nutty, almond-scented macarons. You bite down into the chewy, slightly crisp shells. A burst of peanutty chocolate ganache oozes out onto your tongue, instantly combining the wonders of French pastry with the comfort of all-American candy.
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I think I’m in trouble. I have an irresistible itch to keep making macarons. So this is the reason behind the macaron phenomenon! It’s like nicotine- you get hooked the first time and you’re done. Crap.
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Macarons are such divas! They do everything you don’t want them to. Like my first batch. They emerged from the oven with lopsided feet, rejecting my silent prayers for symmetry. The second batch was even worse. They had magnificently erupted into a cracked volcanic, brittle rocks. It was dreadful.
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Dear Honey, It’s me, Missy Macaron. Wait! I know we haven’t always been buddy-buddy, but hear me out…
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