I have researched the macaron for weeks now. And would be lying if I didn’t say that those little confectionary puffs didn’t intimidate me.

I came across one site that listed the “10 commandment’s of Macarons,” fearing that if I got it wrong there would be judgment (judgment in the form of decades of past and present French chefs waving their whisks at me in disapproval). However, many, if not all, the articles began the same way, “well you all remember my first attempt at macarons;” with links to pictures of broken macaron shells; a graveyard of sugar and despair.

Great; what made these little suckers so dang scary? And it was then I began strategizing my battle plan. So it might be messy and yes, the macaron had the advantage but I decided I wouldn’t go down without a fight. I even decided that I would grind my own almond flour.

And so it began…

My egg whites had been aged, my flour ground and sifted (x3) and everything had been weighed right down to the gram. I folded my batter to the exact number of strokes directed in the recipe because, well, that’s how I roll. Finally it came to piping the batter. Circles appeared to be a difficult concept for me to grasp. But nevertheless, I baked them. At this point is was 10:30 p.m. and I was not about to admit defeat within the first batch. I was going to bake those little suckers whether they liked it or not.

However, I’m not entirely sure how but at some point I gave birth to twins. I am thinking I should enter these into the state fair.

1st batch of macarons

And then this happened:

Not quite ready to let go...

Scary looking, I debated even putting the logo on it. Apparently my macarons were having separation anxiety and refused to leave the nest. That’s ok, batch #3 was on its way. Round 1 and 2, macaron. NEXT. Macaron 2, Casey 0

As my last batch was in the oven, I stared at them almost every minute they were baking. I was beyond excited and all my macaron hopes and dreams rested on this last batch.

Half baked macaron shells

Beautiful. Win!

When they were finally ready; 12 survivors remained.

Macaron shells

Incase you didn’t know (because I sure didn’t until recently) Macarons are characteristically defined by the little sponge like feet that appear at the bottom of their shell. I was over joyed to see that my macaron’s indeed had feet. FEET!

I filled my macarons with  vanilla buttercream and allowed them to sit for 24 hours so the flavors could marinade together. 

While they “rested” I was left to face the clean-up process. Awful. I left a sign on the counter for the next hour that read “Just Nuke It” (I think we just came up with Nike’s next AD campaign). But to my dismay, no one was coming to quarantine or clean up the kitchen for me.

Clean Up horror

But you see that mixer there? It probably dates back to the early 1900’s but I adore it more than any other piece of kitchen equipment I own. It makes perfect meringue every time. Not even my stand mixer can say that.

The timing couldn’t have been better once the macarons were ready to eat. They were ready just as it had started to rain outside (I love over cast days). I grabbed myself a cup of tea, all reaming survivors and indulged. Sipped some tea and repeated the process as needed.

Macaron, attempt #1


While I was enjoying the taste of victory I couldn’t help but analyze my first macaron attempt.

Macaron Analysis, 1st Attempt

Still, I am going to try another recipe for macaron’s again later today. I have a new strategy in mind and can’t wait to see what these babies will look or taste like next.