In the last blog, I was so happy that my macarons were starting to resemble macarons and not just some weird-shaped almond cookies. Yay! And even though my oven is not behaving that cooperatively on most days (On some cold winter days, it could take up to an hour to get the pilot lit properly -- arghhh), I found ways around it (here).

These macaron shells have no extra flavors just different colors.  I filled them with store-bought dolce de leche that proves to be wayyyy toooo sweet.  I also made some lemon curd filling from the leftover egg yolk -- that turned out to be waaayyyy too runny  The foot was high, but the shells were somewhat hollow.  I did try to bake them on the lower shelves -- That was disastrous.

Two years ago, I embarked on a journey to try to bake French macarons but got so discouraged and humbled that I swore to never go on this hair-pulling, teeth-grinding, suicide-inducing baking experience ever again.  Alas, I should have known better.  You guessed it, never say never, right?  So here I am again, being drawn into the labyrinth of recipes and techniques, and with sugar-stained hair and wayyyy too much coffee in my vein, I'm doing it again.

Somehow, I faintly suspect that I'm more of a masochist than I care to admit. Oy Vey!!!!!

Anyhow, this time, I decided to put a method to my madness by sticking to one recipe and wrestle the little devil down until I somewhat master it before moving on and up.

Much to my satisfaction, I've got some progress!!! Hurray!!! And all the jubilation and elation is owed to the marvelous Not So Humble Pie's Macaron Troubleshooting with tips and tricks from Joy of Baking and shared passion and tenacity for achievement of Yaya Yayai who tirelessly compared baking notes with me -- THANK YOU!!!

The most joyful experience was to watch the long-coveted 'FOOT' all of a sudden materialized out of thin air.  Oh! Joy -- Now, at least, if I don't do anything else in life.  This will be enough -- I can safely say that this is closure for me. LOL.

So here is the recipe.  I make half the recipe for each batch.  It's more manageable for me, so I include the measurement also for easy reference:


Not So Humble Macarons v3.0128 - Full Recipe
yields approximately 50 cookies
(Half recipe measurement below)

    5 g dehydrated egg white powder*
  28 g granulated sugar
225 g confectioners (powdered) sugar
125 g almond meal**
100 g aged egg whites***


Not So Humble Macarons v3.0128 - Half Recipe
yields approximately 50 cookies
(Half recipe measurement below)

    3 g dehydrated egg white powder*
  14 g granulated sugar
113 g confectioners (powdered) sugar
  63 g almond meal**
  50 g aged egg whites***

* I used CK Products as recommended by Not-So-Humble-Pie, but I just checked on amazon and it was not available, so one's got to find another brand.  Just make sure it is dehydrated egg white and not  meringue powder.





** The 5-day aged egg white seemed to work perfectly.

*** I used Honeyville Blanched Almond Flour Super Fine Grind .  I may try Bob's Red Mill next time, if I can't find Honeyville

My First Succesful Macarons - Basic Macarons with Lemon Mousse Filling.  The foot formed but the color of the meringue was not white

- Prep two half sheet pans with parchment or silicone baking mats.

- Pre-heat your oven to somewhere between 290°F.  My oven heat is not the most consistent in the world and tends to overheat drastically.  That oven thermometer really is a life saver.  So I only use this temperature.

- Start by weighing out your sugar and egg white powder into a small bowl. Mix with a fork until uniform and set aside.

- Sift together your almond meal and powdered sugar.

- Weigh out your egg whites and begin beating them on low speed until foamy. Begin slowly sprinkling in the powdered egg white and sugar mixture as you beat. Then increase the speed to medium and beat until a firm meringue forms. (I sneaked and used medium high speed -- about 8 -- on my stand mixer and it turned out okay -- or so I thought -- to speed things up a bit).

- You want firm, glossy peaks in your meringue, you don't want to beat all the way to stiff peaks. So hold yourself back.

Man, I love that peak.  Won't be able to do that with my hand mixer though :P

- Beat in food coloring gel now (I use Buff) and then add 1/3rd of the almond mixture. Folding it in gently. Once combined, add another third of the almond mixture, and so on. For visual reference on how to combine and fold, see this video by Chef Nini. (Note: the batter should be deflated a bit to let the air out).
- Add your batter to a piping bag with a round tip (any size bit under 1cm works fine) and pipe rows of macarons.

I baked on these silicone mats I bought from Costco -- super good-valued compared to the original Silpat - much cheaper and they also have templates for piping newbies like me :)

So, I think I figured it out, but didn't have enough egg white to test this theory. So until the next batch, Bon Appétit.

My most vivid memory of the things I learned during the 4 years of French literature has been these "petites madeleines" from Marcel Proust's In Search of Lost Time or À la recherche du temps perdu.  The most quoted passage is this one.

..No sooner had the warm liquid mixed with the crumbs touched my palate than a shudder ran through me and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary thing that was happening to me. An exquisite pleasure had invaded my senses, something isolated, detached, with no suggestion of its origin. And at once the vicissitudes of life had become indifferent to me, its disasters innocuous, its brevity illusory – this new sensation having had on me the effect which love has of filling me with a precious essence; or rather this essence was not in me it was me. ... Whence did it come? What did it mean? How could I seize and apprehend it? ... And suddenly the memory revealed itself. The taste was that of the little piece of madeleine which on Sunday mornings at Combray (because on those mornings I did not go out before mass), when I went to say good morning to her in her bedroom, my aunt Léonie used to give me, dipping it first in her own cup of tea or tisane. The sight of the little madeleine had recalled nothing to my mind before I tasted it. And all from my cup of tea...wikipedia

And I'd like to also note the French version -- for old times sake ;)

Il y avait déjà bien des années que, de Combray, tout ce qui n’était pas le théâtre et le drame de mon coucher n’existait plus pour moi, quand un jour d’hiver, comme je rentrais à la maison, ma mère, voyant que j’avais froid, me proposa de me faire prendre, contre mon habitude, un peu de thé. Je refusai d’abord et, je ne sais pourquoi, je me ravisai. Elle envoya chercher un de ces gâteaux courts et dodus appelés Petites Madeleines qui semblaient avoir été moulés dans la valve rainurée d’une coquille de Saint-Jacques. Et bientôt, machinalement, accablé par la morne journée et la perspective d’un triste lendemain, je portai à mes lèvres une cuillerée du thé où j’avais laissé s’amollir un morceau de madeleine. Mais à l’instant même où la gorgée mêlée des miettes du gâteau toucha mon palais, je tressaillis, attentif à ce qui se passait d’extraordinaire en moi. Un plaisir délicieux m’avait envahi, isolé, sans la notion de sa cause. Il m’avait aussitôt rendu les vicissitudes de la vie indifférentes, ses désastres inoffensifs, sa brièveté illusoire, de la même façon qu’opère l’amour, en me remplissant d’une essence précieuse : ou plutôt cette essence n’était pas en moi, elle était moi. J’avais cessé de me sentir médiocre, contingent, mortel. D’où avait pu me venir cette puissante joie ? Je sentais qu’elle était liée au goût du thé et du gâteau, mais qu’elle le dépassait infiniment, ne devait pas être de même nature. D’où venait-elle ? Que signifiait-elle ? Où l’appréhender ? Je bois une seconde gorgée où je ne trouve rien de plus que dans la première, une troisième qui m’apporte un peu moins que la seconde. Il est temps que je m’arrête, la vertu du breuvage semble diminuer. Il est clair que la vérité que je cherche n’est pas en lui, mais en moi. Il l’y a éveillée, mais ne la connaît pas, et ne peut que répéter indéfiniment, avec de moins en moins de force, ce même témoignage que je ne sais pas interpréter et que je veux au moins pouvoir lui redemander et retrouver intact à ma disposition, tout à l’heure, pour un éclaircissement décisif. Je pose la tasse et me tourne vers mon esprit. C’est à lui de trouver la vérité. Mais comment ? Grave incertitude, toutes les fois que l’esprit se sent dépassé par lui-même ; quand lui, le chercheur, est tout ensemble le pays obscur où il doit chercher et où tout son bagage ne lui sera de rien. Chercher ? pas seulement : créer. Il est en face de quelque chose qui n’est pas encore et que seul il peut réaliser, puis faire entrer dans sa lumière. Du côté de chez Swann

 Anyway, I digress.

So, since the first time I tasted these heavenly scalloped-shaped cakes, I fell absolutely in love and they have been my favorite throughout the years.  Only until recently, that I mustered enough courage to even attempt to make them and I've been trying out several recipes (How to Make Classic French Madeleines by The Kitchn; Joyofcooking.com; and A Real Madeleine by Annemarie Conte), and finally came up with my adjustment that I like best.  So here goes...

My Classic Madeleines

(Makes about 24 - 28 Madeleines)

Ingredients:

160 g. of unsalted butter (1 stick and 3 Tbsp) melted and kept warm
2 large eggs at room temperature
2/3 cup white sugar
1 cup all-purpose flour +1 Tbsp, divided
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp vanilla
1 Tbsp lemon zest

Instructions:

1. In a small saucepan, melt the butter and then keep it warm.

2. In a small bowl whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt.

3. In the bowl of your electric mixer, or with a hand mixer, beat the eggs and sugars with the paddle attachment at high speed until the mixture is thick and pale in color (about 5-8 minutes).


Beat in the vanilla extract and lemon zest (if using).

Then sift about one-third of the flour mixture over the whipped eggs and gently fold in, using a rubber spatula or whisk. Sift and fold in half of the remaining flour, and then sift and fold in the rest. (Do not over mix or the batter will deflate).



4. Then take about 1 cup (240 ml) of the batter and fold it into the warm melted butter. (This lightens the butter making it easier to fold into the batter.)



Then, with a spatula, gently fold the butter mixture completely into the egg batter.



Cover and refrigerate the batter overnight (can be stored in the refrigerator for up to three days).



5. Prep the pans using a pastry brush, generously grease the molds of two - 12 - 3 1/2 inch (8.5 cm) Madeleine pans (preferably non stick) with very soft or melted butter. (Make sure the pans are well greased or the Madeleines will stick and be hard to remove.)



Then dust the molds with flour.


 Tap out the excess flour.


Freeze the pans overnight.

6. When you are ready to bake, preheat your oven to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C). Drop a generous tablespoonful (can use an ice cream scoop) of the batter into the center of each prepared mold, leaving the batter mounded in the center. (This will result in the classic "humped or domed" appearance of the Madeleines.) - Do not over-fill the mold or madeleines will become flat.



7. Bake the Madeleines for about 8 - to 11 minutes. Check after 6-8 minutes and rotate pans (left to right, front to back).


Bake until the edges are golden brown and the centers spring back when lightly touched. (Do not overbake these cookies or they will be dry.)



8. Remove the pans from the oven and immediately tap each pan against the counter to release the Madeleines.



Place Madeleines on a wire rack to cool.



Best served immediately but can be stored in an airtight container at room temperature for a couple of days or frozen for up to 1 month. Dust with powdered sugar before serving.

The fact that there is a distinction between “simple” and “easy” is all brand new to me – and apart from sparking contemplation about life in general, this statement made me want to try making the soup.

Yet, I bet when Ms.Powell wrote this, she had never tried making Thai curry paste from scratch!!! I could say with certainty because I made both. 

Julia Child’s Potato and Leek Soup (Potage Parmentier - recipe here) which, despite the simple ingredients: potatoes, leek, water and salt simmered all together for 40-50 minutes – is marvelously delicious.  The only not-so easy part is when you have to mash the potatoes with fork – which is really fine with me.  I always like my soup chunky.  A bit of cream is mixed in before serving.  And yes! It’s just heavenly and comforting.  I never cared much about leek nor potatoes before, but this classic soup changed my mind completely.

For the Green Curry Paste (recipe here), the list of ingredients is also very simple: garlic, shallots, lemongrass, galangal, fennel, coriander seeds, Thai chili, shrimp paste, and salt.


BUT I had to pound them with pestle and mortar by hand for what seemed like forever to get the paste shown here -- not as fine and smooth as what you usually see coming from a can or sold in fresh markets in Thailand.


Food processor did not work well in this case, I found.  So now I know why the ability to make smooth curry paste used to be one of the many qualifications sought after in potential daughter in laws in the old Siam.  Your patience and perseverance is put to a test! Big time! Much like marriage I supposed :)

If making Potage Parmentier is nowhere near easy, making green curry paste is climbing Mt. Everest in my book.  I don’t know if I’d every make it again soon, but at least I know that I can now.

Simplicity in life may not be easy to achieve, but it’s well worth a try.