Les Macarons

What better way to start the month that 
encapsulates a day that celebrates love than with these little delightful bites of pure heaven.


A cliché? Maybe, but I am just too excited! It is like finding true love and after many trials and errors, thrills and disappointments (such are relationships), I have finally managed to master the art of making...les macarons.


These little almond meal and egg white sugary delights have long been a favourite of mine (what is not to love? Almonds + sugar = love)





The first time I remember seeing macarons, before they became something of a cult fixture was in LADURÉE, Burlington Arcade,London.

Who could help but be fascinated by a tower of delicate but brightly coloured confection constructed in the window?

The colour-splashed window (as if it were not enough in its own right, is encased in gold with rich dark wood window frames. Sauntering up from Bond Street and in through the Burlilngton Street arcade, for a second, walking past Ladurée  it feels as if you are suddenly back in Victorian London. No, it is more decadent than that: as if one has suddenly transported into the 'beau-monde' : the world of fashionable society of the late 18th century.
Although officially it was only in Paris at the beginning of the 20th century that these almond delicacies were sandwiched together with chocolate ganash by Ladurée, indulge me for a minute.


And as you can imagine les beaux-mondes like their delicacies and petit-fours. One could imagine how with elegantly gloved hands ladies reached for the small but scrumptious treat when they stopped for tea in the arcade while shopping for fabric. 
Macarons often form part of a petite-fours plate : Little baked pastries that are no more than bite sized.  Perfect for high tea, but for the details in which I also delight but for which you'll have to wait for the next blog post. 

The macaron has a fascinating history that dates back to the 16th century when they were created by Italian pastry chefs for Catherine de Medicis in 1533 on the occasion of her marriage to the Duc d'Orleans who then became king  Henry II of France in 1547. 

There are other little tales that involve royalty and macarons, which,had clearly moved from their Italian home to become thoroughly French nationals. 

In Nancy there is a tale of two Benedictine nuns, Sister Marguerite and Sister Marie-Elisabeth, seeking asylum in the town of Nancy during the French Revolution (1789-1799) who produced this "fine dough" ( the meaning from which the macaron's name is derived) and sold them in order to pay for their living. 


Again in Nancy, Catherine de Medici's grand-daughter is said to have escaped starvation by eating one of these delights. In Saint-Jean-de-Luz, the macaron of Chef Adam regaled Louis XIV and Maria Theresa of Spain at their wedding celebration in 1660. 


For some of us, once we have been transported to that era, there is just no going back. Well maybe that is wrong to say. Like Owen Wilson's character in "Midnight in Paris" there is an ever-longing to go back.  Taking a bite of this originally French delicacy, one is transported immediately into that world of colourful decadence and the only way to recreate being there is to take another bite. 

 There is also only so much you can spend on these relatively expensive delights before the indulgence brings you back to reality. 


All the same, for a treat there is no denying where I would find myself heels no longer clipping cobblestones but the marble flooring of Burlington Street arcade.  


Also close to Covent Garden where having tea at the Covent Garden Hotel was another favourite thing of mine to do, mostly because just post the Victorian era I could imagine Virgina Wolf having tea there (when she was in a sociable mood and eating - but I digress here into another era, so that's for another blog-post) 

I think that more than anything, that once you have had a really good macaron, there is just no going back. I am not afraid to say either, that I judge ones which have bits of almond because the pastry maker didn't go to the trouble of grinding the almonds finely enough. I see that I am not alone in my peculiarity...


 They are things that you crave and so, they not being as popular back in Cape Town as they were in London or Paris, and so I had to set out to make my own.  
This, of course, was more difficult than I originally thought. Like all things meringue-based, they are particularly finicky. Undermix the mixture and you get hard almond cookies. Over beat the mixture and you end up with baked watery blobs. Leave the mixture too long and all of a sudden the air is deflated out of them and you won't get the "feet" that are the hallmark of a true macaron. 

You can get some really fantastic food colouring these days and I'm besotted with this electric blue but pale colours are equally delicate.

The trick is, however, to work quickly and not to handle the mixture too much. Learning to use a piping bag can be another challenge but happily was a skill that I quickly perfected - it's all about keeping your eye on the prize!