Patisserie 14: Blood Orange and Rosemary Macarons

Macarons are a type of sandwich cookie that has exploded in popularity in recent years as a dainty snack. Laduree in Paris is largely credited with introducing the cookie to the public as the Parisian Macaron, where macaron previously referred to the unfilled, singular cookie halves. The cookie portions are meringue with almond flour, and the filling is typically a ganache, buttercream, or other semi-solid flavor component. The cookie is typically smooth on top, with a ruffled brim called the "foot", and flat on the bottom, and assembled macarons are aged for at least a day after filling to allow the cookie interior to moisten.

So, I've been dreading this section on macarons because their recent popularity has taken the form of the pastry down the same road as the croissant: held to a known standard that prioritizes hyperoptimization of certain features that the public has deemed "ideal". In the case of croissants, I am in major disagreement with several of the ideal features and thus unmotivated to pursue them as a pastry learning endeavor; in the case of macarons, I simply did not think I would like eating them enough to want to make batches over and over to iron out issues that might not even matter in the finished product. They're intimidating because there are a lot of ways they can go "wrong" according to the rubric of the ideal, and perfecting them is tedious (as one can imagine from the multitude of blogs proclaiming strategies for troubleshooting to obtain the "perfect" macaron). Plus, the last time I made them, which was admittedly almost a decade ago in college, they were absolutely a disaster, ideal aside. 

But I didn't start this trajectory of patisserie to just make things I think are adequate, I guess. I want to get good, to figure out why some things go wrong and how to fix them, and to make little cakes I will want to eat more than what I see in a pastry shop window. So I dutifully called up a friend who often makes macarons for gatherings of friends and headed to her kitchen with a bunch of equipment in tow for a guided macaron baking session. 

Patisserie 13: Opera/Glazed chocolate and coffee layer cake

 We've arrived at last at one of the most ambitious cakes in patisserie: The Opera Cake, or Gâteau opéra. From Wikipedia: 

It is made with layers of almond sponge cake (known as Joconde in French) soaked in coffee syrup, layered with ganache and coffee,...French buttercream, and covered in a chocolate glaze. Its namesake originates from the layers resembling the levels of an opera theatre

 This cake is meant to be decadent yet delicate, with umpteen variations on its many layers making it a popular cake that presents nicely when sliced to reveal its layers. The version of the cake in The Book has three cake layers, two butter cream layers, a layer of ganache, and a layer of glaze, for a total of six. 

Patisserie 10.5: Paris-Brest again

This is just a short post, but I made the Paris-Brest pastries again, incorporating the following changes that I wanted to improve on from last time: 

• Pipe the correct diameter circles (OD 70mm)
• Using 10mm piping tip for larger choux width
• Chilling the mousseline prior to piping for sharper results
• Filling the pastries more liberally
  
• Figuring out the correct piping pattern for the mousseline
  
• Making a large batch of praline from scratch to eliminate hazelnut chunks that might clog my piping tip

I did still end up using almost an entire extra egg (3.8) compared to the three that the recipe calls for. The larger piping tip resulted in fewer total pastries (14 total), but also had the unintended effect of needing longer to bake. I removed the first batch from the oven a little too early, and this resulted in a few of the rings sagging slightly, though none deflated entirely. Otherwise, though, these rose fairly well and were not overwhelmingly bagel-like.

The ring in the foreground is deflated slightly, while those in the back are round. Should have left them in the oven longer, especially since drying out isn't really a concern with milk in the mix and a filling on top of that.

Since I filled these pastries the same day as I baked them, the choux shells were crisper, but so were the almonds. This resulted in a lot of the almonds chipping off while I was cutting the shells in half. I'm beginning to see why so many modern Paris-Brest variations choose to use pearl sugar as a topping instead. 

I piped an initial ring of chilled mousseline into the bottom half of the choux this time, to fill in some of the space.

I piped an initial ring of mousseline to fill in the cavities in the choux, so the prettier piped ripples would not sink down

Then, I piped loop-de-loops of mousseline in a circle around the pastry, which is a technique I picked up after browsing Instagram to figure out how the heck I was supposed to pipe the mousseline to get those nice ripples when viewed from the side.

Mousseline piped using overlapping loops to achieve the scalloped edges when viewed from the side

The more liberal piping of the mousseline yielded only one dozen Paris-Brest completed, but my, were they picturesque!

Paris-Brest, attempt two! I think this is a faithful reproduction, but I admit I have never had one of these from a patissier before.

Even though I chilled the mousseline prior to piping, the shapes were not as sharp as pictured in The Book, but the mousseline was airier in general than last time. I think I'm ready to move on from choux/this recipe, though I may come back and visit eclairs soon because I've been seeing a lot of beautiful ones coming in lately with fruit flavors as the weather has warmed (and had a delicious strawberry one a few weeks ago). Now I just have this extra praline paste that I have to resist eating with a spoon. 

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