If they could see us now....

It is my recollection that in the days of yore, not to put too fine a point on it, Passover desserts sucked. My grandmother really did a bang-up job with the sponge cake, but even at its best it had a funny matzah-y texture and flavor that wouldn't let you forget it was basically an imitation of a good cake. The only other thing you could rely on getting were those weird fruit slice candies, and though I always have loved gummy fruit-flavored things, those always seemed a little off to me too.

But now we live in the era of flourless chocolate tortes and so forth, and the Passover desserts are actually getting good. You may recall this post last year. This year I made the matzah crack again, only I let the caramel cook for longer than the recipe calls for, so it has a richer flavor. I topped it with melted semisweet chocolate chips, a sprinkling of fleur de sel, and some toasted slivered almonds. It's GOOOOOD. Sticky and good.

Also to file under sticky and good, last night I made these French Almond Macaroons recently published in the Times accompanying an article about a new wave kosher chef. They're very elegant and light, with a chewy center, and that lovely, almost perfumey, almond scent. I didn't do a very good job of making them prettily round, but other than spooning the batter out more neatly, they're very easy to make. I think they'll be very good with the ice cream I made over the weekend, which is roasted strawberry with a hint of balsamic vinegar and port.

Eat this. Seriously.

Just run to the store right now and pick up some of this. I'm serious. Maybe a spoon, if you are feeling dainty.

I also note the presence of this. Haven't tried it yet, but if it evokes the Honey Vanilla of yore, I'm in.

I scream, etc.

I have just returned from a business trip/junket to San Francisco, where I learned about marketing law regulatory issues, saw lots of friends, enjoyed amazing hospitality, and ate the best ice cream I'll probably ever have. Bi-Rite Creamery. Go there. The nice people will let you taste whatever you want, and feel free to do that, but once you've tasted the gorgeous Strawberry Balsamic and the Brown Butter Pecan, and maybe shared a crisp chocolate cookie ice cream sandwich filled with Mint (and I don't even like mint ice cream), just do yourself a favor and pick up a pint each of Honey Lavender and Salted Caramel and hide yourself away in a closet where nobody can find you (so you don't have to share) with a spoon. Nirvana.

Is there a Mrs. Softee? And if there is, who does her hair?

I had my first Mr. Softee of the season today. (Mr. Softee, for those of you who don't live in or around the New York greater metropolitan area, is merely the best ice cream truck company in the world ever. Yeah, Good Humor can kiss my ass. You can read more about Mr. Softee here. You can also listen to the music at that link, but I'm afraid I can't say you'll be happy you did. It's a notorious earworm, and was also the subject of a somewhat nasty battle last year between Mayor Bloomberg, who said the sound constituted a nuisance, and the Mr. Softee guys, who, predictably, said it didn't.)

The first Mr. Softee of the season always makes me happy for several reasons: first of all, the ice cream is really pretty good. It beats the stuffing out of frozen yogurt, which doesn't have that same velvety mouth feel. Second, it means spring is finally here. Third, I get to flirt with the Mr. Softee boys, who are often cute. Finally, with Mr. Softee, I can eat ice cream without my cat standing next to me giving me sad eyes because she wants to lick the spoon.