The Healing Power of Food

I had possibly the most amazing food experience of my life today. It bordered on religious ecstasy. I don’t believe this is blasphemous to say because when I got up from that park bench in Hyde Park, I felt different than when I had sat down.

When I found out that Laduree had a café at Harrod’s, I knew I had to go. I went to day and got six macarons and an éclair. I walked to Hyde Park, bought a cup of Earl Grey and found a bench. I looked in the bag.

I got Red Fruits, Orange and Ginger, Lemon, Pistachio, and Praline (which I pronounced Praw-lin-ay when I ordered, and was promptly corrected by the woman at the counter.) You may notice that there are six in the bag but I only listed five. The explanation is simple. I don't remember the flavor of that pink one.

I was worried, I had been disappointed by macarons before, and I had just spent an embarrassing amount of money on these ones. But then I tried one.

I have never tasted anything so perfect. The meringue was tender and the filling was so flavorful. It was perfect. I am not a slow eater by nature, but this was the slowest I had ever eaten. I celebrated each bite, letting the various levels of flavor wash over me.

And then they were gone. But I still had the éclair!

It was a little small by my standards, but everything looks small when you’ve grown up in America. Not thinking anything could possibly beat the macarons, I bit into the éclair and my eyes rolled into the back of my head.

It touched on all levels of chocolate, it was bitter but not mediciney, it was sweet but not cloying. And the crème was so smooth. At one point I had to stop myself because I realized I was making out with the éclair.

I finished it off (though I took my time, let me tell you.) I looked around to make sure no one was staring at the American who had been audibly moaning while eating an éclair, cleaned up my trash, and decided to try and make the afternoon service at Westminster Abbey.

I had been feeling low these first two days in London. I missed my family, I missed my friends, I missed my dogs, and I missed being in the accent majority. I had listened to Carole King’s “So Far Away” at least twenty times throughout the day.

But something about the combination of French pastries, English tea, and Hyde Park had caused an alchemical change in me. I was halfway across the world and doing things that I would not be able to do in California or even in the US, and that was exciting. I had fallen in love with London.

And while I still terribly missed my family and my friends and my dogs and being in the accent majority, I was in London, and I had an Evensong at Westminster Abbey to get to.