Sublime little sponges of mass production baking genius from Starbucks are giving me the mens rea for gluttony. The mug shots are below:
images from an interesting post by Joel Amantia on metadata.
I guess these madeleines have been around for a while, though I haven’t noticed them until recently. As commentators have pointed out, I have a taste for the pretentious, and so it suits me now to link to this article about Proust’s madeleines.
But all of this verbiage distracts from the message of this post. The message is that the first bite of a Starbucks madeleine is like that moment in Garden State when Natalie Portman’s headphones first reach Zach Braff’s ears. (That’s right. I went there.) Dipping one of these madeleines into the depths of a burnt, over-fatted, over-milked, over-sweetened coffee is a tactile pleasure akin to playing with liquid mercury – smooth, silky, and a little bit dangerous. It tastes like a psychospiritual sex trapeze in my mouth. Try this mind-bending, earth-shattering, galaxy-fucking experience at your local Starbucks. Or the Starbucks next door.
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