I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vale and hill
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden — madeleines!
Here they are, packed close together, delicious lemon-y French mini-sponge cakes baked in their traditional shell-shape molds. I adore madeleines, and was thrilled to find this delicious crowd at Northampton’s extraordinary French café, 40 Green Street Lunch.
When Marcel Proust dipped just one in his tea, memories came flooding back to him and he wrote seven volumes of major opus A La Recherche du Temps Perdu (difficult to translate appropriately, but generally meaning in search of time past, of time vanished). Here I am, having eaten one madeleine (all I can afford), and all I have to show for it is a brief blogpost. There’s nothing like reading Proust to make one feel like an underachiever!
(Do you think, maybe, if I ate the whole contents of this jar, I might at least come up with a memorable short story?)