The three little Gossip Girls and the big bad baker
There's this show; perhaps you've heard of it--the life and times of rich, snotty, self absorbed, sexually promiscuous, cellphone addicted "teens" who all happen to be uncommonly gorgeous and on track for Yale and Brown while in the midst of the most heart-wrenching love quadrangles of their lives. Why yes, don't we all look like top models in real life and get into IV league with an impressive 2.0 grade point average. The image of the modern MTV generation is that of reality gone terribly wrong. Curse you beautiful people, it is because of you that i waste the many precious hours of my life every week ironing my hair to that grill-cheese flat sensual state of silky smoothness; will i never be loved with just this curly mess! But, in all fairness to the marketing geniuses that are the writers/producers of prime time television drama, they wouldn't write it if it didn't sell--and how oh how does it sell.
Now, dear reader, before you start wondering how i of all people could reference precious edibles to such a hoity toity monstrosity of plastic materialism, you must remember that we at the Salty Cod beleive that everything deserves a second glance, even that which produces the desire to gouge out one's own eyes. It is from this introduction that i announce the television program of Gossip Girl; a Monday night teeny-bop drama to replace that which was once Laguna Beach, was once the OC, was once god-what-have-you. I am a critic, i will not lie. A cynic, a nose turner when i walk in the room; why do you watch such garbage? I question my three little roommates, my three little gossip girls, this is nothing but empty stereotypical trash that devalues what is good and idealizes all that is wrong. Yes, we know, they sing, but that is what is great about it; we know it's trash, that's why we watch it. Who wants to entertain in reality, no for real drama we have life, for escape we have those whose lives are filled with glamour and beauty, for the treat is when we realize we would nor could ever wish to emulate such pathetic disproportional drama. Alright, alright--watch your show, but make sure it's flipped to the Travel Chanel afterward, Bourdain is on at ten, and if i have to miss it for this crap i'll start a rumor on you--oh that's the thing, the Gossip Girl, she texts in rumors on everyone and everything to stir up trouble. So here is one of my own--meet my roommates of 224, S, F, and A; housemates even the gossip girls would have trouble making look bad. on y va.
What do a business major, an art student, a psychology major, and a history major have in common--surprisingly enough. We have polar opposite interests from each other in our respective fields of study, in our tastes of cuisine, in movies, in men, in dress, and in music--yet we congregate under the same roof by our choosing. A doesn't like coconut, F can't get near the thought of coffee, and tapioca and beets send shudders down S's spine, yet we manage to coexist in this cozy little cottage of white walls and wooden floors. One bathroom does pose perhaps at times a problem, though our rainbow array of soaps and shampoos lining the shower wall signals that harmonious chord of crowded comfort. We met Freshman year, the four of us stuck in the same rotten dorm; and here we are three years later each profoundly changed, matured (huh?) but yet the same. The truth is, one of them eats far too many pickles and leaves on all the lights, one is a human beat box and sadly loves top ramen, and one turns off the lights and only drinks soy; but i would not wish it any other way. We are so strangely different, yet find the smallest things to bind. An enchilada and margarita from Jose at Rancho Chico's, a rousing chorus of Ireland's rugby fight song, a "boyfriend's gone home" hot dog at Costco, kitchen chatter on nostalgic cartoon characters, and of course, of course macarons.
I made French macarons for the first time in this house, with my roommates as the first tasters. Not only were they my first macarons produced, but also their first macarons consumed. It is always evident the look of a first timer; (you should have seen the face of my bartender at my sushi place tonight, hehe. oh K we love you) the face is caught between surprise, ecstasy, and felicity; what is this, this creature! Since their first appearance here they have continually been on request. Alright alight, i give in--i promise i will make some for valentines day, only the best for my gossip girls. But what in a macaron do gossip girls covet--house rules peanut butter, and dark chocolate, no doubt. Pink, well of course, and a gossip girl xoxo in white; damn this was too easy. Glamour and style; aside from champagne and caviar French macarons are the girliest edible beauties possible. The Marie Antoinette cookie; perhpas this show offers us just some silly frillyness, well, let me offer some of my own--and even better, we can eat it.
Gossip Girl Macarons
shells: 110g (3/4 cups) ground almonds ~ 200 g (2 cups) powdered sugar ~ 3 egg whites ~ 1/8 cup sugar ~ food coloring
method: please see Helen
Chocolate Peanut Butter Ganache
ingredients: .5 cups heavy cream ~ 8oz dark chocolate ~ .5 cup peanut butter
method: boil cream, and pour over chocolate to melt, add peanut butter. when cooled whip until desired consistency.
white chocolate ganache: same as above, but with white chocolate and no peanut butter. no way! and make quite a bit less.
All in all, F, A, and S deserve macarons every day of the week. They are my physical shoulders to cry on, my comrades to laugh and to smile with, and my constant reminders that it is always the unexpected that provides the greatest treasures. While you never complain from the constant flour coated counters, the crazy make shift dining room table photo-set ups, and the thousand other oddities i proffer, i beleive it far past due to give a proper mention of gratitude to these girlies who mean more to me than what is ever said. Gossip Girl ends each episode with a line of XOXO, precisely my point. I mean what can i say besides eu sinto, i feel 224; the three little gossip girls, and the silly baker in her flowery apron stuck right in the middle. Maybe a little gossip is ok every now and again, so ladies--xoxo.