I found the macadamia nuts in their shells at the Santa Monica farmers’ market. I was surprised to see them at all. In fact, I was looking for hazelnuts, of which there has not been a snifter. I’m not a fan of exotica in food generally, nor do I warm to the tropical, except for Bounty bars. I once went to the Philippines, which was full of places that looked like the ideal location for a Bounty advert: milk-soft ocean, leggy coconut palms, acres of white sand. At one point a very Americanized Filipino leaned over to me and said “Isn’t this the best decision you, like, ever made?” How to say no, without seeming ungrateful? I probably just nodded and hoped my eyebrows were holding back some of the sweat that I could feel pouring out of my hair.

The one thing I will remember fondly was the man who sang Tears in Heaven every evening yards from my beach hut. He had a rather limited repertoire, but a really nice voice. All the restaurants had their own singer, and the songs were mellow and often accompanied by a single guitar. I remember feeling completely miserable, alone and in paradise. Actually, I wasn’t alone because fishermen used to sleep in my hammock. 

Macadamias were introduced to southern California in the late 19th century from Australia, their native soil. They have similar demands to avocados, and are scattered throughout avocado groves and sometimes citrus here for that reason. I was shocked at how they looked once shelled (they are almost impossible to crack – hence the hammer). They are so perfect and pristine it’s unnerving – exact yet miniature, like Japanese netsuke. They are buttery, in the way of a Brazil nut, but sweeter and creamier; they need the dry heat of the oven to do them justice. Alternatively – and I can’t blame you – buy a bag of them shelled and save yourself the agro. I apologize in advance for the expense. They are known as the brat of the nut world, probably for this reason.

I have long held a love for the coconut. The damp matted stuff, fragrant, sweet and nutty has an affinity with macadamia nuts. Coconuts are available year-round but peak in the autumn and winter. I am happy to bring you macaroons, because I think they are lovely in size, easy to make and timeless. They should be eaten on the day they are made though as they stale up easily. The macaroon recipe calls for shredded coconut, which is a common ingredient in the US. The UK version, called desiccated coconut, is very similar. Alternatively, buy a fresh coconut – pierce it, drain off the juice (and drink it, it’s very good for you), crack open the shell with a hammer (yes, again) around the ‘fault’ line, and separate the flesh. Peel off the brown skin with a knife and grate the flesh in a processor. If you think this is too much faff and expense for one recipe, I suggest making the coconut-macadamia shortbread too (see recipe below).

Coconut-macadamia macaroons

Adapted from Lindsay Shere, Chez Panisse Desserts

& Nigella Lawson, How to be a Domestic Goddess