My Easter memories, as far back as I can dig into my childhood at least, have always involved bright splashes of color -- coloring Easter eggs with my sisters, hunting for them in garden, baskets full of confections, cakes, and pastel dresses. This year, in Cambodia, the holiday almost passed without notice. I know at home, in Los Angeles, my family is gathering around for dinner, amid bouts of argument and laughter.
This picture of French macaroons reminds of this holiday. It also reminds me of visits to Pix Patisserie, in Southeast Portland, Oregon, where I noshed on colorful macaroons, which I often washed down with one of their tasty beers.