Mad over Macaroons

Give me a macaroon and I'll be at your beck and call; Shower me with a boxful and I'll be your trusted confidante for life.

When my dear husband came home from his exhausting Pan-Arab trip on August 26th, the only yet wonderful thing that he got me was a box of macaroon. Make that - a delectable, scrumptious, heavenly box.

At long last, my craving for macaroons was sated.

I was beyond excited when he texted me that he had found Paul at one of the megamalls in Dubai during his extended layover there. And that he promptly purchased two big chocolate-filled macaroons without a second thought.

Sure, there were other material things worth buying - in truth, nothing had really caught his fancy what with the seasonal autumnal colour being grey, grey and more grey - but only macaroons captured his heart and not to mention, epicurean senses.

Alas, when he thoughtfully presented me with the lovely macaroons that Tuesday, I resisted the urge to scarf them down in one sitting. In fact, it didn't take much effort not to eat them. My flu was in overdrive - I couldn't even smell the blessed thing, what more to savour every biteful.

So it was towards the weekend that I only managed to sink my teeth into these French confections. I'd better relieve myself from further gastronomic torture by putting to rest this protracted longing.

Notwithstanding the vestigial trace of my stubborn flu, I relished the thick, creamy filling and the crumbly, rich chocolate discs encasing it. Love was definitely in the air. I'm in patisserie heaven.

Months of deprivation, my palate instantaneously welcomes the bittersweet fudgey cocoa which complements the flakey, meringue texture of the macaroons nicely.

Word of advice to the curious foodie : macaroons are best eaten at room temperature and as such, please allow your refrigerated pack to first thaw the chilling effect. Having savoured this French delight at the Paul kiosk in Charles Du Gaulle, I must say freshly-assembled macaroons is the only way to go.

With Paul's unfortunate foiled plan to expand its wings in Malaysia and the short-lived franchise of Singapore's Bakerzin locally, I eagerly cast my eyes now on the Hong Kong-based Paul.

Yet, there is always Singapore to satiate my pining for other macaroon variants. I'm more than adamant to make that trip soon.

Until we cross paths again macaroon, I'll dream of you in my waking and sleeping hours.