TULIP MACARONS WITH HONEY-PISTACHIO MASCARPONE CREAM

SPRING FLING : MAC ATTACK FIVE The Earth laughs in flowers. – Ralph Waldo Emerson My plane had arrived that morning and I found my way – taxi? Metro? I truly can’t remember – back to his house. My trip had been long and tiring, back from deep, dark Africa, and I headed straight for a shower. The house was empty, no one home, so I took my time, pampered myself, hot bath, shampoo… and slipped into my gold satin robe just as he walked in. He had wondered nervously if I would make that decision to return, to join him, doubted that my love was strong enough, real enough to come back. But come back I did. And I walked into his open arms and he wrapped me in his warm embrace, never to let go. And he had brought me a bouquet of tulips. Yes, I still remember the tulips, orange and red and yellow, wrapped in crisp white paper, fragrant and beautiful. We weren’t a couple made for roses. Roses, gorgeous, deep red or pale pink, roses are too traditional, too mundane, a flower one is expected to give to a lover along with diamonds and Champagne. I’ve always preferred deep, mysterious, blood-red garnets to diamonds, voluptuous, lush peonies or frilly, feminine carnations to roses, a…
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Tags: Attack, carnations, flowers, french, house, kitchen, ordinary, sister, wine








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