LE MAGICAL MACARON

(holy pink wow)


(we turned into school children, peeping in on our little cookies, so excitedly)


(macaron preparation)


(Gen Gen and I embark on the macarons)


(D traces perfect circles as our cookie guide)


(a study on how to eat macaron batter)

Pink Sparkle Dust
Powdered Almonds
Butter cream
Framboise Jam
Sift Sift Sift.

Is this a girly love poem or is this a girly love poem? When Genevieve, my Mother-in-Law, arrived for a visit bearing a pastry bag with small tip, edible sparkly powder, new cookie sheets, almond meal and the seriously gorgeous book, i love macarons by Hisako Ogita, I knew we were in trouble. I had fallen in love with le macaron in Paris, conducting a cookie taste-off between Hermes and Laudree (Laudree's vanilla and salted caramel beat out all others, although Hermes won for creative flavorings by a long shot), and then let the cookies drift into the mellow memory of our trip . . . Like the perfect croissants and baguettes in Paris, there are some things that America just cannot match -- we can aspire to perfection, but we cannot attain it here. I assumed macaron were in this category. Something to savor solely while in Paree, a unique moment of taste time and place. Sure being in Paris imbues every bite with delicious pleasure and a 'let's pay attention ' feeling with every meal, but something close and very special can be attained when you attempt macarons at home. I swear it! I couldn't believe my tastebuds -- le petite blush-pink macaron were divine.

It was to be a group endeavor, Gen Gen and I measuring, sifting, dancing around the kitchen and each other -- Steph, my sister-in-law acting as paparazzi for the eve, D tasting at random junctures and questioning our direction-following and my brother-in-law snoozing on the couch throughout it all (don't ask me how, we were making a racket!). Somehow, through the heat and the last-minute adjustments and the multiple points of views, we made a near-perfect macaron. It was a miracle. We made vanilla macaron with a raspberry buttercream filling. We dusted the delicate darlings in pink and marveled at the mystery of the outer egg-shattering exterior, slight chew at the 'foot' of our beloved creation and cooed at how our filling was 'not-too-sweet.' We were VERY pleased with ourselves.

The recipe is too complex to properly list in this post -- i will say, check out a book on macaron or a detailed recipe, enlist your friends and family and make an afternoon of it -- you'll be so so thrilled with the results!

* All photos (except the first image, of the cookie resting on the blue plate) from this post were taken by the lovely Steph -- Thanks girl!