The Measure of a Macaron

On our way back to Port Authority from our meritorious lunch, DMR and I had every intention of stopping by Bryant Park for a valedictory hot chocolate at Max Brenner before braving the merges at the Lincoln Tunnel and rush hour on I-78. However, being stuffed full of escolar, bacalao, turbot, yellowtail, chestnuts, and pistachios we were unable to so much as contemplate our original plan. We therefore decided to alter our route and strolled down 6th Ave. to 48th St., for a right turn towards our destination.

Was it karma? Was it fate? Had I been an especially good girl this year? We walked straight into Financier Patisserie.

I was not previously aware of this establishment, but was alerted to the good things within by the little tables scattered about the pavement in front, full of shoppers enjoying coffee and cake, not to mention the line snaking into the distance. I decided to stick my head in the door, just on the off chance, don't you know. I wasn't hungry, but the lure of French baked goods is for me, as loyal readers know, an irresistible siren song.

The display case (sorry, vitrine), was chock full of beautiful goodies including - gasp - large macarons. You are all aware of the angst chez Fractured Amy caused by the necessity of choosing whose macarons reign supreme (the front runners being Dalloyau and Laduree, neither of which can claim perfection in my view) and refining my own manufacturing technique. Chief among my complaints has been that most macarons to which I have access are, quite simply, too small to allow for ideal balance (buttercream vs. meringue) and texture (crisp on the outside, marshmallowy within). I happily bought one example each of Financier's pistachio and vanilla specimens and carried my treasures home so Sir could partake in the subsequent judgement.

Before sampling my gems, I did a quick bit of research to see what sort of pedigree they had. Quite a lot, as it turned out - the executive pastry chef is Eric Bedoucha, previously of Bayard's, Lutece, and La Grenouille, the last of which The Diva and I have vowed to visit one of these days. I had high hopes, therefore, that the macarons would provide an authentic experience.

First I measured them, as a good scientist should. I was pleased to see they slightly exceeded my minimum preferred diameter of three inches:

Now that's a macaron!

Next, I cut the pistachio macaron in half, the better to assess its visual appeal:

The macaron in cross section: note the
generous layer of buttercream, slightly soaked into the meringue,
and lovely crispy pied.

As you can see, it was extremely impressive to the eye, rather like a big pistachio pillow. One bite confirmed that I was onto a winner: the meringues were soft and ever-so-slightly sticky and chewy, while the buttercream was creamy and not too sweet. The aroma and flavour of pistachios were dominant.

Dare I say it? Financier Patisserie places ahead of both Laduree and Dalloyau - and it's a mere 70 miles away from home. As I said - I must have been a very good girl indeed.