I should have known that a packed Beijing city bus does not provide the ideal conditions for bringing home a box of petits fours. But still I was determined, because I couldn't pass by Comptoirs de France, whose macarons I had already raved about, and not bring home anything from their tempting display cases. Our friend Jack was cooking dinner tonight for Jacob and me, so I wanted to at least provide the dessert even if French pastries usually don't go with Dongbei cuisine. I picked out a mini opera cake, tarte tatin, chocolate dome, and strawberry tarlett. Surely my little cakes will be packed correctly, I thought. And it's just a 10 minute bus ride.

Of course, riding a Beijing bus on a weekend is akin to riding the New York 1 train during weekday rush hour. Everyone taller than you is breathing down your neck, you're breathing down shorter people's necks. You think no way can we fit any more people, yet more riders pile on and what little air pocket around you encloses a little more. Add that to the jerky driving and incessant stop and go traffic of Beijing's clogged roads that might as well be parking lots, and I was picturing an amorphous heap of cake parts and chocolate smears by the time I got home.

Paris may be thousands of miles from Beijing, but that doesn't mean delectable French pastries are out of reach. I immediately fell for these macarons when I saw them at Comptoirs de France, a bakery opened by Philippe Ancelet, formerly of the Kempinski Hotel.

Macarons, especially from Pierre Hermé or Ladurée, have a cult following, and the cult only grows as more fans blog about them. These tiny rounds of meringue sandwiching a thin layer of cream look almost too good to eat, especially since patissiers often line up 10 or 12 different kinds, from pinks to greens to yellows. As adults, we may be too old to salivate over cotton candy and lollie pops, but macarons still give us a chance to indulge in something bright and colorful.

Comptoirs de France also has canneles, tarts, and petit fours, but those are the subjects of another story. Not buying every flavor of macarons was an exercise in restraint. But I did try the Vanilla Bourbon, Caramel Fleur de Sel, Green Tea, and Chocolate Sichuan Pepper.

When working or hanging out in cafés, my usual drink of choice is either a frothy cappuccino or a nice boba tea. Lately I've found a new addiction: rose milk tea. A pot of the creamy, fragrant, and intoxicating tea with floating dried roses is the perfect companion for an afternoon of writing (or blogging.). And in Haidian, the university district, rose milk tea is as ubiquitous as free wifi.

Rose milk tea is pretty simple to make. Some cafés use loose tea that comes with dried roses, while others just steep a bag of black tea in water and milk and add the roses after. Just like chrysanthemum tea, you drink the tea with flowers floating in it. I use at least one and a half packs of sugar per pot, just because sugar seems to bring out the taste.

I'm usually fond of the rich taste of Hong Kong milk teas, which use condensed milk. But here in Beijing cafés tend to use regular milk, which I don't mind when it comes to rose milk tea. Regular milk is lighter-tasting than condensed milk and doesn't overwhelm the floral fragrance.

Sculpting in Time
Building 12, 1 Huaqing Jiayuan, Chengfu Lu (across from Wudaokou lightrail station)
Haidian District, Beijing
8286 7026

O2Sun Bookstore's Reading Café
Building 1, Huaqing Jiayuan, Chengfu Lu (across from Wudaokou lightrail station)
Haidian District, Beijing
8286 3032/33