Claire Bullen

The farmers’ market that appears every Thursday and Sunday along Broadway is packed with local, seasonal fruits and vegetables that are certainly preferable to the insipid specimens found in John Jay.

What the madeleine was to Proust, so the macaron is to me.

When one considers the typical litany of winter spices, memories of certain flavors immediately engage the senses. The fragrant tang of cinnamon, the simmered heat of crushed red pepper, and the muskiness of cloves all share the warming comfort necessitated when temperatures dip below freezing.