French Macarons Part 1

Here are my final words (well, until I get a new batch of eggs...): 

Don't try making these. You're better off just buying them.

Or, if you're slightly compulsive and delusional anyway (like myself), then be prepared to suffer... and not do anything else for the next week or so. This macaron-making adventure is consuming my life and destroying my self-esteem. I can only say: I am obsessed. 

It all began with my chocolate challenge. I wanted to make chocolate macarons. Then, I thought, maybe I'll just start with the basics, the plain almond-sugar version. C'mon, let's be honest now. Haven't you ever looked at or bitten into one of these heavenly little delights and thought to yourself "Ooo, they are so pretty but why are they so expensive? I mean how hard could they be to make?" Ha. HA! Evil little bastards. 

I can hear the voices of numerous other ardent bakers who have long suffered my current fate before their glorious moment of victory: "Old egg whites! Use new egg whites! One tray! Two trays! Italian meringue! French meringue! Stiff peaks, soft peaks! Closed oven! Opened  oven! Slightly opened oven! Ribbons! Bands! Lava! High speed my friend! Low speed my friend! It has to be shiny! It can't be liquid! Don't overfold! It has to flow like lava from Mount Hapinapanui! Dry them before baking! Don't dry them - just stick them straight into the oven. They need to have feet...le pied - that's what makes a REAL macaron!  It's all about the macaronnage!" OMFG.

Yes, the macaronnage. The French know all about it... The beautiful and magical (kind of like a unicorn) yet strangely unattainable moment that can only be captured with the precise balance between mixing the almond meal into the meringue and creating the exact amount of air bubbles without leaving the mixture overly folded. (I just shot myself in the head with an imaginary bullet.) And those damn little 'pieds'. I've made about four batches now. (If you were wondering where I've disappeared to and why I haven't posted in so long, this is why.) My cousin thinks I'm insane because I keep yelling "Where are the feet? There's no feet!" while staring at my oven in despair. Even my mother is slightly concerned. ("How many more batches of these do we have to eat? What ARE you trying to make?") 

As with all obsessions, I have reached the point of no return. It is too late to give up. I will not stop. I will not rest until I bake them with feet. 

I need more eggs.

West Coast: Day 3

Yesterday was a boring day in terms of food (lots of disgusting fast food). Today wasn't much better but I did make myself a pretty tasty English egg muffin sandwich this morning with sausage, home fries and a spicy salsa sauce. But we did see an incredible amount of pumpkins everywhere. Something about the midwest; they love their squash/gourd-like/pumpkins species out here. We visited a Gertens today (kind of the Wal-Mart equivalent for gardens/nurseries.) I have never seen a) so many pumpkins together in one place and b) so many different types of pumpkins. I love, love, love pumpkins. Weird, I know. We entered the prairies tonight (Murdo, South Dakota), literally in the middle of nowhere. Everything is flat and even the occasional tree seem out of place. Our Days Inn is cladded in wood logs and the lobby is filled with taxidermy. Perfect setting for a slasher film - House of Wax 2: Prairie Fire.

Poached Eggs

Tasty? Yes. Terrified to make one? Uh-huh. I could never get my poached eggs to look like the perfect smooth ones they serve at Cora's. Buy an egg poacher? That doesn't satisfy me. I'm curious - people poached eggs for centuries before the "egg poacher-scooper-hanging-thingy" was manufactured. How did they do  it?


Julia Childs suggests to poke a small hole in the shell with a pin and boil the egg for 10 seconds before cracking it into simmering water. Too risque. Another wise woman suggested vinegar and making a vortex out of the water. Been there, failed that. Now here's an idea I found, wrap your egg in microwavable plastic wrap forming a pouch and boil in water. No mess - apparently. Hmm... Finally, pour your egg in a ladle then pour hot water over it. Perhaps?


I tried the last two methods. Plastic wrap is perfect if you don't mind the wrinkles. 100% mess free. Egg does not stick to the wrap. Isn't that something nice to know? But the wrinkles would bother me if I have to serve this at a brunch with guests. Method two gave me the perfect round poached egg. Although I think it would be wise to add a drop of oil in the ladle before pouring the egg in. This method takes more patience. You can't submerge the ladel into the water until the egg has entirely set...unless the whole thing turns ugly. 


I had this for dinner last night: topped it with cheese, paprika and dill weed. I didn't have English muffins but the whole wheat bread wasn't bad. Now I can enjoy poached eggs whenever I want - poached to perfection every time.