Despite an excellent start early on with ticking one major item – The Book – off my goal list that had been held over from the previous week and getting some exercise in the form of walking as well, the fact remains that I still have no meringues for you.
In addition to Saturday’s rhubarb crumble, I did make some dairy-free banana ice cream using coconut milk and a pear-strawberry galette over the weekend, all of which were incredibly delicious. My husband even went so far as to say that it was the best strawberry-rhubarb anything he’s ever tasted, no small praise considering he’s a flavour snob of the highest order and that has been one of his favourites since he was a child. It’s not like I wasn’t busy. But again, they are not meringues.
Maybe it’s my miserable macaron-making experience that’s holding me back. Meringues are far less fickle than the macaron but they still depend on a certain lack of humidity in order to rise successfully. And it has certainly been humid. So it would be fair to reason that on a subconscious level I’m protecting myself from inevitable failure of the meringue by not even trying. But therein lies another problem – there has always been that layer of consciousness. And it’s less protective than it is preventative, in that before I even start a task I will have convinced myself that it will fail, and so I simply don’t bother. And that was the point of this whole exercise to begin with: establish weekly goals with a view to breaking my more unhealthy patterns. It doesn’t mean that I can state a specific goal, such as make those damn meringues, and then when I don’t achieve it I try to supplement it by making anything or everything else. That’s not how this works. So, to put it simply, what I need to do now is just shut up and make the meringues already.
And there you have it: while this weekend was productive in that I made a whole bunch of yummy things, it wasn’t successful because I did not make the one thing I had set out to. But in this case I would say that not being successful isn’t the same as failure, because another outcome has emerged: I’ve identified another important pattern of behaviour that needs to be put to an end.
Who knew that some fluffy bits of egg white and sugar could lead to this level of self-discovery?
PS: I have the eggs on the kitchen counter, just waiting to come to room temperature. And the mixer stands by their side at the ready. Fingers crossed