The last time I graduated I took with me a line on my forehead: the sun burnt an impression from my graduation cap on to my skin that lasted three weeks. This time I vowed I would leave graduation the same way I came in, and for the most part I kept my word. That is except for the macaroons. I left with macaroons.
We had our post-graduation lunch at the Ritz Carlton because it would be easiest and the least crowded. Lunch was a buffet—there was good stuff up there. Shrimp, lobster, lamb and risotto and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. The Roberts family is funny with shrimp on a buffet: we head right for them. We stack our plates greedily and come back to the table, our faces hidden by pink mountains of shellfish. The Roberts family likes shrimp.
But the Ritz Carlton shrimp were forgettable. So was the lobster, lamb and risotto. What I took with me, both figuratively and literally were the macaroons. I asked for a box and and began sneaking macaroons off the buffet table. Grandma helped. I left with six, a good catch but not nearly enough.
These things are delicious. Lauren won’t even taste one because, to quote her, “there’s no chocolate in it.” What a ridiculous reason not to eat something. She’s missing what is, perhaps, my new favorite cookie concoction. The outside is strawberryish and the inside has this weird green jelly. My whole childhood I thought of a macaroon as a coconut cookie: who knew they could be so much more? I love these things. I’m going to go eat one right now.