Archive for the ‘Maracons’ Category

I sincerely would love to sit here in this still, cramped corner in a small NYC apartment and provide some sort of pastry-related distraction to you, dear, lovely, patient readers. Alas, I have a long list of to-dos, and a tic, itching to check all the boxes off. Whether any of the list items will bring me money in the long run I don’t know for now, but here’s to hoping.

In the meanwhile, I will leave you with this photo hodge-podge.

In season now, strawberries at the farmer’s market. Hellooooo fruit tarts and jam and muddled strawberry-rhubarb cocktails.

At Philips Farm on Saturdays

At Philips Farm on Saturdays

This swan holds half a cup of sugar:

Once, an ugly duckling cup measure

Once, it was an ugly-duckling cup measure

And lastly, a word to the wise: Do not add a cocktail mixer as a substitute for actual liqueur to flavor macaron batter. I learned the hard way this weekend, thinking this below would suffice for cassis. But it was fun, eating macarons like those candy buttons that come stuck on paper.

When life gives you lemons, just eat them off the paper

When life gives you lemons, make like candy buttons


Read Full Post »

Le Tour Eiffel

Le Tour Eiffel, out of focus

It’s a given that all people obsessed with food should go to Paris or spend a chunk of time there (or the rest of France, too) to acquaint the self with all matters surrounding it: the history, culture, preparation techniques that’s been well-documented for centuries, les marches en plein air. As Ernest Hemingway wrote: “If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then whereever you go for the rest of your life it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.” He probably meant a lot more than just food (sex, booze, terse but profound conversations, hunting?), but we’ll just stick to food for our purposes.

I had never been until last October (sad, right?) until the boyfriend bought us plane tix as a pastry school graduation present. I felt so lucky! I set out to have pretty much everything we had ever covered in classes, a tall order for my blood sugar level, as we only had four days.

A hearty piece of chocolate tarte, with tar-thick ganache—almost the consistency of caramel—from Chez Michel in the 6th arrondissement capped off our post-arrival meal:

Chocolate tarte

We stopped by Laduree on Champs-Elysee, but it was like Grand Central in there (mostly women with fancy bags and sharp elbows, dangerous). Plus I realized the cost of one Laduree macaron was half of what I had in my bank account, so I ended up settling for the less glossy and hyped but pretty good Dalloyau ones. They were properly crispy on the outside, and chewy on the inside, with buttercream fillings. I ate most of the contents below before I remembered to take a picture—oops! Getting better at that all the time.


I think I planned the trip around stops at Poilane. I had never had a croissant so airy, so ethereal. The layers of the puff inside it just disappeared as soon as they hit the tongue. We also bought a box of punitions, the crunchy shortbread cookies sold there, to save for the journey home.

Get in my belly!

Then there was this leek and seafood quiche we bought at a bakery off Rue Lepic near Montmartre, with a satisfying, thick crust.

seafood tarte

There was also a tarte aux pommes from La maison Kayser, but the photo is really bad so I’ll spare you. But feel free to drool at this snapshot of profiteroles in chocolate sauce from a great dinner we had at Brasserie Lipp:
Classic profiteroles

In true BWD fashion, though, the trip was equal parts bitter and sweet—personal conflicts surfaced, plus it was so short. C’est dommage. Mais que sera, non?

Read Full Post »