Mission to Mastering the Macaron

Approximately four years ago, I tried my first macaron...1/4 of a mini macaron, to be exact. My mom, sucked in by the hype from the media, bought a box of a dozen assorted mini macarons. They were small but extremely expensive, which is why my family of four decided to split every single macaron evenly among ourselves.

I didn't think much of them and could not understand why anybody would pay $2 for something that tasted like chewy air with a hint of some sort of fruit extract. Today, I still think they are very expensive, but I no longer scoff at the chewy, fruity, airy meringues that they are. Don't get me wrong, they are still airy, they are still chewy, they are (most of the time) still fruity, and they are essentially fancy meringue biscuit sandwiches.

However, what's changed is that I've come to appreciate the macaron not for what it's physically composed of, but what isn't physically present in its completed glory--the long prep work, the dainty effort it takes to pipe the shells, the art behind pairing the meringues with the appropriate fillings, the opportunity cost of the hours spent laboring over them. Yes, all that for the small, airy, (fruity), chewy meringue confection that is the macaron.

How do I know of all this work behind the macaron? Well, I took a class with my boyfriend David at Sur la Table four weeks ago to learn how to make them. I love baking and I'm completely aware of how high maintenance baked goods can be, but these little things are on a whole other level of finicky. They are require the most specific of ingredients (almond flour? Aged egg whites, anyone?), the most specific of oven and room temperatures, the most specific amount of mixing and sitting and what have you. Oh, and they need perfect "feet"--the ruffled circumference around the edge of the biscuits--to be considered a true success. They are, essentially, the Miranda Priestly, the prima donna, the Devil Wears Prada, of baked goods.

The first round we made was a raspberry macaron with rose ganache filling. These were my favorite flavor-wise. The tangy, freeze-dried Trader Joe's raspberries complemented the powdery rose scent of the sweet filling surprisingly well, and it took all my willpower not to gobble all of them in one go.

The second round was a lemon macaron with blueberry buttercream filling. Although our meringues did not fully form feet (our pastry chef instructor said we had over-mixed them..oops!), they were David's favorite. Again, the balance in flavor was just right--not to sweet, not too tangy. The blueberry buttercream was extremely delectable, and this time I could not help myself from eating the leftovers by the spoonful.

Last, we traded some of our raspberry macarons with other students for some chocolate macarons with mint fudge filling, a solid contender close behind the first two.

Overall, it was a fantastic and eye-opening experience. Although I still don't think I'd be able to shell out $2 for a single macaron, I definitely see the value behind the tiny confection and may just try mastering them in my own kitchen with the kit David bought for our first year anniversary...

...after all, they are very sought after and would make the perfect gift for any occasion!