This article is from the source 'nytimes' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.

You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.nytimes.com/2013/07/24/dining/fads-aside-the-perfect-macaron-is-timeless.html

The article has changed 2 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.

Version 0 Version 1
Fads Aside, the Perfect Macaron Is Timeless Fads Aside, the Perfect Macaron Is Timeless
(about 20 hours later)
NANCY, France — In the back of a pastry shop in this city in eastern France is a small kitchen that holds a secret.NANCY, France — In the back of a pastry shop in this city in eastern France is a small kitchen that holds a secret.
It is here that Nicolas Génot comes early every morning, shuts the sliding door tight behind him and transforms ground almonds, egg whites and sugar into cookies called macarons. He works alone. Not even his wife is allowed in.It is here that Nicolas Génot comes early every morning, shuts the sliding door tight behind him and transforms ground almonds, egg whites and sugar into cookies called macarons. He works alone. Not even his wife is allowed in.
This macaron — round, unadorned, with rough fissures in its crisp golden crust — is made from a centuries-old recipe. In 1792, two Benedictine nuns, driven from their convent after France’s postrevolutionary government banned religious orders, took refuge with a local doctor and made a living making macarons. Their recipe has been passed down in secret ever since.This macaron — round, unadorned, with rough fissures in its crisp golden crust — is made from a centuries-old recipe. In 1792, two Benedictine nuns, driven from their convent after France’s postrevolutionary government banned religious orders, took refuge with a local doctor and made a living making macarons. Their recipe has been passed down in secret ever since.
These are the rustic original macarons that begot the smooth-topped, puffed up, ganache-filled, pastel food-colored sandwich confections we know. But while the Nancy macarons are timeless, their trendy present-day cousins are going through strange times. What was once the most exquisite of small pleasures, the most elegant hostess gift you could buy, is everywhere today, as ordinary as Oreos. Some are good, some are not so good. Some have ketchup in the middle. Some are from McDonald’s. These are the rustic original macarons that begot the smooth-topped, puffed up, ganache-filled, pastel food-colored sandwich confections we know. But while the Nancy macarons are timeless, their trendy present-day cousins are going through strange times. What was once the most exquisite of small pleasures, the most elegant hostess gift you could buy, is everywhere today, as ordinary as Oreos. Some are good, some not so good. Some have ketchup in the middle. Some are from McDonald’s.
So disappointing, at a time when the perfect French macaron (pronounced mah-kah-ROHN) has never been needed more.So disappointing, at a time when the perfect French macaron (pronounced mah-kah-ROHN) has never been needed more.
With the French economy spiraling downward, with pessimism infecting France like black mold, la patisserie (the pastry) has risen in importance. “Is la pâtisserie going to replace sex?” screamed the headline of an article in the magazine Marianne this spring.With the French economy spiraling downward, with pessimism infecting France like black mold, la patisserie (the pastry) has risen in importance. “Is la pâtisserie going to replace sex?” screamed the headline of an article in the magazine Marianne this spring.
But the article was not about macarons. In Paris, hardly anyone talks about macarons. The battle for the palates of the French seems to be elsewhere.But the article was not about macarons. In Paris, hardly anyone talks about macarons. The battle for the palates of the French seems to be elsewhere.
Madame Figaro magazine announced recently that “the cream-filled puff pastry has replaced the macaron.” And the Styles supplement of the weekly magazine L’Express declared the éclair the winner, having “rendered the macaron old-fashioned.”Madame Figaro magazine announced recently that “the cream-filled puff pastry has replaced the macaron.” And the Styles supplement of the weekly magazine L’Express declared the éclair the winner, having “rendered the macaron old-fashioned.”
Of course none of this matters to Mr. Génot, the baker of the classic macaron, which I sampled from the parchment paper on a tray still warm from the oven. It was crisp on the outside and moist and soft in the middle, with just enough chew.Of course none of this matters to Mr. Génot, the baker of the classic macaron, which I sampled from the parchment paper on a tray still warm from the oven. It was crisp on the outside and moist and soft in the middle, with just enough chew.
It took me back to Buffalo, to the pignoli, a Sicilian version of macarons studded with pine nuts that my Aunt Lili made in huge batches at Christmas. Like Mr. Génot, she kept her recipe secret, not by withholding it, but by slightly altering the proportions of the ingredients in every retelling. It took me back to Buffalo, to the pignoli, a Sicilian version of macarons studded with pine nuts that my Aunt Lili made in huge batches at Christmas. Like Mr. Génot, she kept her recipe secret, not by withholding it, but by slightly altering proportions of the ingredients in every retelling.
“Ours are the originals, the macarons of the French Revolution,” said Mr. Génot, who runs Maison des Soeurs Macarons (House of the Macarons Sisters) here in Nancy. “We keep it pure. We keep the secret.” “Ours are the originals, the macarons of the French Revolution,” said Mr. Génot, who runs Maison des Soeurs Macarons (House of the Macarons Sisters) in Nancy. “We keep it pure. We keep the secret.”
Blame the macaron’s downfall on Marie Antoinette: Sofia Coppola’s 2006 film “Marie Antoinette,” that is. Ms. Coppola decorated Versailles with macaron pyramids from Ladurée in shades that matched the pastel dresses of the teenage queen and her court. Ladurée created a Marie Antoinette macaron for the occasion: rose with anise. Blame the macaron’s downfall on Marie Antoinette: Sofia Coppola’s film “Marie Antoinette,” that is. Ms. Coppola decorated Versailles with macaron pyramids from Ladurée in shades that matched the pastel dresses of the teenage queen and her court. Ladurée created a Marie Antoinette macaron for the occasion: rose with anise.
Never mind that sandwich macarons didn’t exist in prerevolutionary France. By 2007, McDonald’s had introduced six flavors of macarons in their McCafés. (Billboards in the Paris metro earlier this year promoted a McDonald’s macaron and an espresso in a porcelain cup and saucer for just 1.50 euros).Never mind that sandwich macarons didn’t exist in prerevolutionary France. By 2007, McDonald’s had introduced six flavors of macarons in their McCafés. (Billboards in the Paris metro earlier this year promoted a McDonald’s macaron and an espresso in a porcelain cup and saucer for just 1.50 euros).
In the United States, Oprah endorsed chef Eddy Rocq’s pink, gluten-free macarons (with 25 percent of the proceeds for charity). And macarons made it into at least three seasons of “Gossip Girl.” (In the finale of Season 2, Chuck and Blair reconcile after he brings her favorite macarons from Pierre Hermé; in Season 3, Serena and Blair are feuding and Chuck, armed with scotch and Ladurée macarons, traps them in an elevator so they can work things out; in Season 4: Blair, upset at Chuck, soaks in a tub eating macarons out of a pale green box.)In the United States, Oprah endorsed chef Eddy Rocq’s pink, gluten-free macarons (with 25 percent of the proceeds for charity). And macarons made it into at least three seasons of “Gossip Girl.” (In the finale of Season 2, Chuck and Blair reconcile after he brings her favorite macarons from Pierre Hermé; in Season 3, Serena and Blair are feuding and Chuck, armed with scotch and Ladurée macarons, traps them in an elevator so they can work things out; in Season 4: Blair, upset at Chuck, soaks in a tub eating macarons out of a pale green box.)
I no longer bring Ladurée or Pierre Hermé macarons (no matter how pretty the box) to a dinner party and expect the hostess to squeal with delight. But Mr. Hermé, a fourth-generation pastry chef who makes the macarons that bear his name, says I am wrong. “A great macaron is like a great suit: there’s Chanel and then there’s, there’s Zara,” he said. “There will always be a market for the luxury macaron.” I no longer bring Ladurée or Pierre Hermé macarons (no matter how pretty the box) to a dinner party and expect the hostess to squeal with delight. But Mr. Hermé, a fourth-generation pastry chef who makes the macarons that bear his name, says I am wrong: “A great macaron is like a great suit: there’s Chanel and then there’s, there’s Zara. There will always be a market for the luxury macaron.”
His macarons, among Paris’s best, are now made in a factory (he calls it an atelier) in Alsace, and shipped within France as well as to Tokyo, Hong Kong, London, Dubai and, soon, Doha.His macarons, among Paris’s best, are now made in a factory (he calls it an atelier) in Alsace, and shipped within France as well as to Tokyo, Hong Kong, London, Dubai and, soon, Doha.
Does he ship them frozen? “Any pastry chef who says he doesn’t freeze his macarons is a liar,” Mr. Hermé said.Does he ship them frozen? “Any pastry chef who says he doesn’t freeze his macarons is a liar,” Mr. Hermé said.
Ladurée has also expanded. If you can’t get to one of its shops in Paris before leaving the country, you can buy macarons at mini-Ladurée stands at both Charles de Gaulle and Orly airports. There are Ladurée shops in 21 countries. Macarons shipped to non-French destinations for Ladurée come out of a factory in Switzerland, where they are frozen before shipping. (“We don’t say they are frozen — it’s not a very pretty word,” said a Ladurée spokeswoman, Aude Schlosser. “We say they are in hibernation.”)Ladurée has also expanded. If you can’t get to one of its shops in Paris before leaving the country, you can buy macarons at mini-Ladurée stands at both Charles de Gaulle and Orly airports. There are Ladurée shops in 21 countries. Macarons shipped to non-French destinations for Ladurée come out of a factory in Switzerland, where they are frozen before shipping. (“We don’t say they are frozen — it’s not a very pretty word,” said a Ladurée spokeswoman, Aude Schlosser. “We say they are in hibernation.”)
No matter. When the company opened a shop on Madison Avenue in August 2011, the line to buy macarons ($2.80 each) stretched long down the block. By the end of the year, Ladurée will open a shop on West Broadway in SoHo, with three “salons” that can seat a total of 92 people and a garden for 70 more. It will be open seven days a week from 8 in the morning until midnight. No matter. When the company opened a shop on Madison Avenue in August 2011, the line to buy macarons ($2.80 each) stretched long down the block. By the end of the year, Ladurée will open a shop on West Broadway in SoHo, with three “salons” that can seat a total of 92 people and a garden for 70 more. It will be open daily from 8 in the morning until midnight.
But try hard enough and you can find small-scale bakers making great macarons, like Arnaud Delmontel, a baker and pastry chef in my neighborhood. I was invited to his kitchen to learn how to make them. But try hard enough and you can find small-scale bakers making great macarons, like Arnaud Delmontel, a baker and pastry chef in my neighborhood. I was invited to his kitchen to learn to make them.
Two men in his kitchen turn out about 3,000 macarons a day in four flavors. I watched as one made a pistachio-flavored filling while the other squeezed out the meringue-based cookie shells onto baking sheets, ending them in comma-like swirls. Mr. Delmontel handed me the metal-tipped pastry bag, cupped his hand around mine and ordered me to squeeze. “I squeeze, I squeeze, I squeeze, I squeeze, I squeeze,” he said. I did what I was told; let’s just say my squeezes and swirls were done with panache.Two men in his kitchen turn out about 3,000 macarons a day in four flavors. I watched as one made a pistachio-flavored filling while the other squeezed out the meringue-based cookie shells onto baking sheets, ending them in comma-like swirls. Mr. Delmontel handed me the metal-tipped pastry bag, cupped his hand around mine and ordered me to squeeze. “I squeeze, I squeeze, I squeeze, I squeeze, I squeeze,” he said. I did what I was told; let’s just say my squeezes and swirls were done with panache.
The baking sheets were pounded on the counter 20 times or more to make the cookies uniform. They sat for 30 to 60 minutes before they were baked and then refrigerated before they were filled.The baking sheets were pounded on the counter 20 times or more to make the cookies uniform. They sat for 30 to 60 minutes before they were baked and then refrigerated before they were filled.
They reminded me of the macarons I bought years ago, when friends from New York moved to Paris and their 7-year-old daughter, Louisa, found herself sleeping on a mattress on the floor of a temporary flat full of horsehair-stuffed furniture that triggered her allergies.They reminded me of the macarons I bought years ago, when friends from New York moved to Paris and their 7-year-old daughter, Louisa, found herself sleeping on a mattress on the floor of a temporary flat full of horsehair-stuffed furniture that triggered her allergies.
I marched her straight over to the macaron counter in the food hall of the Bon Marché department store. Hundreds of pillows of sugar and meringue in riotous colors beckoned.I marched her straight over to the macaron counter in the food hall of the Bon Marché department store. Hundreds of pillows of sugar and meringue in riotous colors beckoned.
We bought a box of a dozen, all of them different. She chose bright lemon yellow; I chose coffee. Together, we bit into the crusts, as smooth as — but thinner than — eggshells. Our tongues sunk deep into the meringue until they hit the smooth richness of the centers. We repeated the ritual, over and over. We bought a box of a dozen, all of them different. She chose bright lemon yellow; I chose coffee. Together, we bit into the crusts, as smooth as — but thinner than — eggshells. Our tongues sunk deep into the meringue until they hit the smooth richness of the centers. We repeated the ritual, over and over. I can’t remember if we ate the whole box. But at that moment, all was right with the world.
I can’t remember if we ate the whole box. But at that moment, all was right with the world.