The Art of le macaron
Macarons might be the new cupcake, but their place in the sweet treat fashion stakes is apparently about to be usurped by the whoopie pie phenomenon. Or so I’m told. I can’t see how whoopie pies (so named because of the whoopie Amish farmers emitted on opening their lunchpails and spying the little cakey-buttercream-filled morsels, known also as a gob, a bob, a black and white, and a hucklebuck) can even compete with the jewelled, dainty, French macarons…but each to his own.
While the specific origin of the macaron is disputed…some say French, some say Italian, it was Ladurée of Paris who perfected the art of the two little coloured almond meringue discs, sandwiched with a rich and flavourful buttercream.
Macaron creation is fraught with peril. It seems that so much can go wrong and it usually does when the home baker rolls up their sleeves, dons an apron and optimistically tries to create the stuff dreams are made of. I once interviewed a macaron maker in Christchurch who had taken a year to perfect her macaron recipe. Now, that is dedication.
The ultimate macaron has two delicate shells which are crisp on the outside and pillowy on the inside, joined with a rich and well flavoured buttercream. Humidity, a bad oven, over-mixing and impatience are the enemy of the perfect macaron.
I joined nine other macaron hopefuls at the Chateau Cuisine cooking class in Sandringham and we gave it our best shot. We did discover some of the pitfalls of macaron creation, most notably, heavy-handed mixing on the part of my salted caramel team. This meant our little jewels were a little flatter than everybody else’s. However, looks aren’t everything, it’s what’s on the inside that counts and, if it’s salted caramel on the inside, you have a winner on your hands even if the meringue didn’t have the little jaunty peak the others achieved. Between us, we produced lychee, salted caramel, raspberry, lemon and espresso macarons. Oh là là. Magnifique.
Raspberry
Salted caramel
lyttelfishdotcom 