Saturday, September 26, 2015

"What do we want? Coconut macaroons. When do we want them? In time for tea"

I think Alan Bennett sayeth'd that. It's attributed to him anyway. Eh?
The title, the title. Flippin heck, do I have to tell you everything?

"The macaroons aren't what they used to be Mabel". I could imagine the conversation, sun shining through the dusty window as the tea slowly lost it's heat to the empty tearoom.

We were in Clapham, not the Common one but the oop-market one, up north and all that. Well, down south from here but you know what I mean - or you should do.

Lovely place when the sun is shining. Room to breathe, river to wash your smalls in should you so wish and apparently where Mr Bennett sometime lives. Having strolled around the place we reckoned it was the house with the trampoline outside so we called " We know you are in there Mr Bennett, come and show yourself". I called him Mr Bennett as I didn't want to sound rude. Obviously. He didn't show himself. Pity that.
We drowned our sorrows with tea to wash down a couple of vanilla macaroons - as you do.


John said...

I like the tea room photograph, and the storyline.
At first I thought it would be a better image with the strip light cropped, but then I realised .....

racheld said...

I love your black and white vis-a-vis of the world, as your words declare your knowledge that sometimes the World Looks Back. I rue the thought of those "empty tea rooms" with the tea growing cold, for I wish and wish for just ONE near enough to hand to enjoy on just an ordinary day, without having to reserve, travel and dress befitting the Opera. Just low shoes, a cloth coat, and purse-with-a-strap---that's what I'd wear for such a stately-but-usual occasion. (None of which I own, by the way, for I live my life mostly in a great trove of garish rubber clogs, even in these snows, and I haven't carried a purse since 1986. Men have had the easy way all these years, and just an item or two in my pockets suffice).

But I CAN make a heavenly pan of macaroons (NOT mararons, those elegantly-smooth pastel domes with the tiny precious crust at the bottom of each cookie, and a correspondingly-tinted filling between---those remind me of those snap-a-beads we all coveted and wore for about five minutes in grade school---and they always seem to have a violently-perfumed raspberry one in the box, to taint the auras of the rest). But a nice, moist packy soft glob of good dough and just the right ratio of tender coconut, gently browned around the edges--those are a treasure worth dipping in a convivial cup.

Captivated by your title, drawn by your prose and photos. Joining this minute to return and consume. I don't mind grumpy at all; I find it quite liberating on occasion, actually.

says rachel, a bit of a Codgess herself

Graham Edwards said...

I'm not a lover of coconut but, because my grandmother made coconut macaroons to die for (not that anyone used that phrase in those days) I have always loved them. It's a funny old world.