When I first learned about madeleines I was in a literature class reading Proust. A couple of months later, Michael and I were in Columbus Circle buying Christmas cards and trinkets from the markets. Cinnamon lingered in the air and Christmas was aglow with fairy lights.
A small bakery had set up shop selling pastries and small cakes, and, to my delight, petite madeleines. I bought a pair and two cups of milky tea, and in Columbus Circle we sat, watching teenagers in t-shirts skateboarding. New York was warm in the height of winter, and even the nose-numbing, bitter winds couldn’t dampen it.
//A recipe for petite madeleines