Raspberry and Hazelnut Macaroons

Pride goeth before a fallen macaroon

I promised another post today, so here it is before I forget/become too swept up in the delights of writing horrific PhD proposals/watching Cold Comfort Farm on Youtube/dribbling. Part of the reason I haven’t posted in so long is laziness and my ability to become distracted by absolutely anything, but the real reason is SHAME. SHAME AT MY CURSED INABILITY TO MAKE CONSISTENTLY GOOD MACAROONS. You’d think this is something we might have resolved prior to forming a blog dedicated to the blasted things. But no. Forethought is not amongst my many qualities (hence the writing of godawful PhD proposals at the last minute). Still, this may serve as a cautionary tale to other, more prepared (enough to read this prior to their attempts) acolytes.

Lesson No. 1: Macaroons are fickle bastards.

The bible of Macaroons? Time will tell...

Never assume that because you’ve made macaroons perfectly before, that it’ll turn out perfectly the next time. Experience seems to suggest that it follows a ration of one success, one flop. The recipe I used this time should have been perfect – it was from Larousse Gastronomique, for God’s sake! I am starting to be suspicious of the fact that every time I make macaroons from a French recipe (Pierre Hermé’s  insufficient 15 minutes of waiting is a case in point) they seem to flop... Far from suggesting that the French don’t know how to make macaroons, I suspect that French macaroon recipes can sense the nationality of the kitchen they’re being made in and will revolt accordingly. The ginger and nutmeg macaroons were perfectly contente to be made in my kitchen – is it because I got the base-line recipe of the BBC food website (again, see recipes tag for more). Anyway, I’ll discuss the Larousse macaroon book more anon (or perhaps Farf will, since I bought her a copy for her birthday- oops.)

So, following the recipe in the Larousse book, I decided to make salted caramel macaroons, or macarons au caramel beurre salé (please don’t delete the accent aigu from that, as my spellcheck would like, or you end up with ‘dirty butter macaroons’. Intriguing, I admit...). I have often been mocked by my taste for salt, but I reckon it’s genetic, because my mother is addicted to these babies – I made them for her birthday party. Which is probably 

Lesson No. 2: Don’t make macaroons with any pressure on you. They will sense your stress and act up accordingly. They can smell your fear. 

Le mélange treacherouse (not a word, but it works)

Making them, though, everything seemed A-OK: it’s a pretty standard recipe: 30g ground almonds per egg white etc etc. However, the recipe does get you to separate your eggs the night before. Why? Answers on a postcard please. Having learned my lesson from last time, after making the base meringuey mixture, I left the little circles of macaroon (piped with an icing bag, if you please) out for over an hour so they could form their little crusts.

Almond rice krispies. Not recommended.

And did they? No. Of course they didn’t, because they wanted to punish me. End result: nasty little flat crispy things. In fact, they tasted not unlike giant almondy rice krispies. I wept tears as salty as the dirty butter. In actual fact though, I’m not sure I was that impressed by the recipe... Salted caramel macaroons are something the big players (Ladurée, Pierre Hermé, Marcolini etc) tend to do rather well, and this was one occasion where even if the home-made bases had been up to scratch, I’m not sure they would have been as good – it’s to do with the filling. People tend to fall into two camps where these macaroons are concerned – you either adore ‘em, or you hate ‘em. The filling I made, according to the recipe (basically, make a caramel with water and sugar, let it colour slightly, then add melted salted butter and some cream) was pretty anaemic. Is the solution more salt? The solution, in my case, is always more salt. I will call them Coronary Macaroons, and they will be glorious. I have to say though, the end result did look quite pretty (after the heartache that making them induced  (NOT THE SALT CONTENT) we decided to serve them anyway) even in spite of their 2-D look, and they went down quite well, up to the point of my former English teacher (my mother’s friends all taught me at school. Weird doesn’t come into it) stealing my macaroon book so that I can’t post the full recipe...

The Macaroons of Shame:

 the redeeming feature is probably the Cath Kidson tablecloth as backdrop

p.s. I note that these, like the last two recipes, are also beige. Something must be done...

McAroons

Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry. This blog is being starved of life like a small and cute baby being denied milk and stuff. Like hats. I think the analogy is probably apt but prone to inappropriate morbidity. By way of apology, I offer thoughtful and possibly worrying news that McDonalds are about to start selling macaroons. I'm not sure how I feel about this but if they call them McAroons (which also sounds like a a form of tartan. In pastel, obviously) I think I could probably get on board:

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704269004575073843836895952.html

As a better form of apology, I will provide an actual macaroon post (a cautionary tale) later on, and I might even make some macaroons tomorrow. Sorry sorry sorry sorry