We forgot to count them all, but I estimate we produced three batches of about seventeen macarons each for a grand total of forty-two. Most of them were presentable, although some were less-than-successful results of experimentation and forgetfulness. Several were positively gorgeous. We spread out over two rooms and baked solidly for seven hours, consuming in the process 6 oz of ground almonds; 3 oz of ground pistachios; a pound of powdered sugar; 9 egg whites; 20 tablespoons of granulated sugar; 2 Meyer lemons; two sticks of salted butter (oops); two kinds of chocolate; and a fair amount of Grand Marnier. We learned a lot and manufactured some damn fine macarons, if I do say so myself.
The reference text - freely adapted by us - was Hisako Ogita's I Heart Macarons, translated into English by Alma Reyes and Seishi Maruyama. It is a sweet little book, although widely and somewhat surprisingly reviled on Amazon, and I have used it with great success in the past. As a supplement, we consulted Laduree's very glossy and beautiful cookbook, Laduree Sucre, which provided contrary instructions en francais on a number of key points. In addition, we did some quick internet research to confirm or discount various points of contention, but concluded our own instincts were vastly superior to just about all the freely-available advice out there.
Issues arising
- What makes the ideal macaron? Should it be relatively thin, flat and crispy a la Laduree (Toad's preference) or rounded, plump and slightly marshmallowy a la Dalloyau (my preference)? The debate on this vexing question was not satisfactorily resolved and we agreed that further study was required. Toad has agreed to undertake her own research (which will probably require a trip to Paris for comparative tastings) at the earliest available opportunity. Now that I am left with my own thoughts, I can confirm that my mind is made up and no amount of persuasion will convince me that a flat macaron is more delicious than or aesthetically superior to its semi-spherical counterpart.
- Macaronnage, myth or reality? Various authorities (although not Laduree, interestingly enough) maintain that vigorous flipping, swiping, and scraping of the meringue while it is still in the bowl is necessary for a lustrous finish on the final product. I have always said this is a disastrous approach, since the resultant batter is too thin to hold its circular shape on the baking tray. Toad, bless her, was determined to try, and although her uncooked batter was fabulously shiny, it dispersed into puddles the instant it left her piping bag. Significantly, the final baked specimens were no more or less burnished than the un-macaronnaged examples, which in my opinion had a winning, subtle sheen just this side of gaudy.
- How old do your egg whites have to be? We used ours 2-3 hours out of the fridge. Received internet wisdom (not shared by Ogita-san or Laduree) is that the eggs should sit out for at least 24 hours before use. We both thought this was excessive and Toad proposed that the addition of some dried egg whites to the mix would have the same effect. I believe she will be trying this in due course in her own kitchen, although I think the simplest approach is more than adequate for a pleasing result.
- Can you make buttercream in the microwave? Maybe, but I've never been able to do it with predictable success and our experiments were inconclusive. The method, outlined by Ogita-san, has potential because it allows for the fabrication of relatively small amounts, but the first time I tried it I started a small fire: the scorchmarks are still there for all to see. The temperature of the water, size of the vessel, vessel material, and power settings are variables that cannot be adequately controlled from one session to the next, and I have concluded I would rather make large conventional batches of neutrally-flavored cream and freeze the excess, thawing and flavoring as needs require. It's probably faster in the end, too.
- At what temperature should the meringues bake? Ogita-san says 375 F, Laduree says 300 F. That's a pretty big difference. We tried both and concluded that the lower temperature was better for avoiding all hints of browning and keeping the colors pure. Our Meyer lemon meringues, tinted a bright yellow with a just a drop of Williams and Sonoma food paste, benefited most from this approach.
- How do you get the macarons off the baking tray? We baked the meringues on silicon parchment paper and they popped off with no trouble (at least, the fully baked ones did). The complicated French method of dribbling cold water between the paper and the baking pan proved cumbersome and unecessary, or would have done if we'd bother to try it. Silpats®, I can now assert with some certitude, are a Bad Idea.
Next up: a perfectly impressive macaron recipe and method
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