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The Macaroons I Didn’t Make

I hate to not follow up on something I had determined to do. I’ve been wanting to learn to make French-style macarons for ages. That was the recipe to make for this month’s Daring Bakers challenge.

I had every intention of doing it, even if I was flying back from South America the day before the post was due. If everything had gone according to plan, I would have hit the domicile by noon on the day. But as with all travel lately, that didn’t happen. The flight was 1.5 hours late getting out of Buenos Aires in an electrical storm and the reason wasn’t even because of the weather. The excuse this time was that the plane was too heavy and they had to take some weight off. Instead of asking for the over-packed or the clearly-not-starving to take a flying leap out of the cabin, they had to get the ground crew to get a pallet of cargo off and then re-weigh the plane. You’d think that wouldn’t take long. You would be wrong. I tried to divert myself during the wait by listening to the crew’s bad Spanish translations of the proceedings for the Argentine passengers. I think the word “cargo” was translated as “warehouse”. I was glad to be out of the madhouse that was the airport terminal, though. I think it was planned that all planes board at the very exact same moment.

By the time the weighing and purging was done, it was 1.5 hours later than stated on the ticket. I got to Atlanta and by the time I’d gotten through customs, my connecting flight to Philadelphia had gone. Good thing there are a lot of flights out to Philadelphia. To add insult to injury, there were small children on the flight who appeared to be parentless. Maybe they’re brilliant at being in touch with their feelings, but respecting the personal space of others is not one of the lessons these little darlings are learning. Good thing the flight is short or someone would have died and someone would have gone to jail.

Of course the plane from Atlanta to PHL was also delayed thanks to PHL’s now infamous comfort with precipitation. It was still raining in Philadelphia and by the time I dragged my carcass into the door of my condo, it was close to 1600 and I needed to buy produce. The market’s close but you’d have a hard time finding almond flour there at a less than usurious price. I made soup, unpacked, washed my junk and was asleep before 2200.

That is why I didn’t do this challenge.

The End

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