Macawrong to Macaron: Finale

Since the last post, I have been madly baking. There is now almond semolina on every surface in my room. Well… not every surface but almost.

Now now, where were we on this journey? Nipples. That’s right. Don’t flag me for inappropriateness cause really; a nipple by any other name is still a nipple yeah? The results of the last batch made me think real hard. What on earth could contribute to nipples in macaron batter?

Was I under-folding when I mixed the dry ingredients into the egg whites? Hmm, that might explain the chunky batter. But because the surface of the skin looked almost mars-like, I suspected that I should process the almond meal to be finer. And this is what I got.

The clear difference between this and the previous batch really is a smoother dome. And of course, the lack of the nipple. The surface of the skin is still a tad bit crackled though. This made me think really hard.

You never want a scientist to think really hard. Really you don’t because we will apply all sorts of scientific theorems and exert all our mental energy to solve the dilemma that is presented to us.

So I spoke to the college chef who has some experience with pastries and sweets. She gave me several advice ranging from a drop of vinegar for acidity, granulated sugar for stability, to ignoring the fact that most recipes call for soft peaks and whip my egg whites instead of firm peaks.

The firm peaks part made sense for the little macarons that I have been piping do seem a tad bit deflated. That is one thing that I will adopt.

I also stumbled upon a startling scatterplot at Not So Humble Pie.

While this is not exactly approved peer-reviewed quality, this will do. The chart shows clearly the ratio of almond meal to icing sugar per gram of egg white in most recipes posted online. I don’t really have to say this but it is generally foolish to ignore tried and tested recipes.

In my last post I mentioned that I was using the Alison Thompson recipe, which is in the ratio of 1.4:2.25:1. Takes no rocket scientist to tell that I have been working with an outlier. (See my out*LIAR* recipe represented by the blue speck.

Phew. It was never me all along. This is the part where I point an accusing finger at Alison Thompson and shout all sorts of obscene vulgarities. Heh.

Another try, this time taking in the college chef recommendation of whipping to firm peaks and dropping the ratio of the almond meal.

And this, dear friends and wayward readers, is what I get.

That’s right. Perfectly coloured little macaron shells with a crust that pose barely any resistance. I have no pictures to show for it but they don’t even have the dreaded air pocket too!

I could barely stop hopping the tiny kitchenette! Little babies of mine.

Thankfully I managed to master this before the kotatsu gathering next weekend for I have sort of announced that I was bringing some of these yummy little things. While I am off experimenting with other flavours and fillings. I shall leave you with this last picture of them filled with dark chocolate ganache.

Don't say I left you with none.

Macawrong to Macaron: Resting (Part 2)

In my last macaron post, I somewhat described the ideal macaron structure. Syrup and Tang sums it up really well in a pictorial form.

Macaron Nazis will say that the ideal macaron is much more than these 4 points. They detest the air pocket under the smooth dome and practically have an ideal measurement for the angle of the rising dome. But for this struggling student, what I am aiming for in this series is just what is described in the picture above.

So first of all, feet. All macarons have feet.

Some argue that the French meringue method yields taller feet when compared to the Italian meringue method. And there have been various debates on the causes of feet formation. One commonly cited process essential to feet formation is resting of the piped batter before baking. This is meant to form a ‘skin’ on the top surface of the macaron batter and when baked, the skin can rise, due to the pressure exerted by the egg white meringue under it, forming the classic dome. This exposes the rough batter, which we term as the ‘feet’.

Another process that may contribute to feet formation is having heat from underneath the pan. Heat from under the pan is meant to start cooking the batter from the bottom up, causing air to be released from the meringue, which travels upwards, pushing the domed lid up and (you guessed it) exposes the ruffled feet.

Whichever belief you subscribe to, feet formation is closely related to skin formation. A good strong skin is required to trap the rising air. In my multiple previous attempts, resting the batter did nothing for me. I got the sameugly cracked yellowed hard chewy cookie. This time I am relying on the dry Melbournian winter to help me stabilize the egg whites.

Here is the moment of truth. Rest or no rest.

Following the recipe in Alison Thompson’s book titled simply Macaron, I used a ratio of 2.25:1.4:1 of icing sugar:almond meal:egg whites. All units in grams. This is the typical French macaron method I am talking about. Egg whites whip to soft peak, fold in dry ingredients, pipe and bake.

To test the effect of my first variable, which is rest, I made one batch of macaron batter. Everything was well till the macaronage bit when I thought the batter looked a tad bit too chunky. Still, I piped onto two trays. Baking one immediately and resting the other for an hour.

Rested macarons are to the left

Resting obviously has a drastic effect. The rested batch rose higher, had more feet (not too clear in pictures, I obviously need macro lens) and was a tad bit smoother than their non-rested counterparts. I was startled. My first macaron with feet.

It was upsetting that the macaron shells lack the characteristic smooth dome and possess the undesirable nipple. I apologise for the lack of a better word. I can only attribute this nippling to the chunky batter. Macaron batter is generally thicker than what most pastry chefs are used to. Ribbons or batter falling onto themselves are meant to disappear within 30 seconds. That nipple you see there was resting for an hour!

You know this called for another installment of the macaron series. Onward to extermination of the nipple.

Macawrong to Macaron: Part 1

The very first time I tasted French macarons I was unimpressed. It was chewy sticky and overly sweet. I did not understand why people flock to buy them from Lindt Café in Sydney. How on earth is a gooey mess of wet sugar appealing? But I pretended to vaguely like it for it was a gift from a housemate who flew them all the way back to Melbourne.

The second time I tried macarons, it was in Bakerzin in Singapore. I fell in love with it. It was unlike anything I have ever eaten. Light and airy, with a tinge of intense sweetness that fades as quickly as it appeared. I could have eaten 10 if they were more affordable.

This is not to say that macarons in Singapore is way better than those from Lindt Café-Sydney. My virginal experience with French macarons was ruined the moment those delicate wafers went on board the airplane. The change in air pressure was enough to introduce moisture into those fragile pastries, deflating the airiness.

And this is the story of how my obsession was borne.

I have made so many batches of ‘failed’ macarons, or maca-wrongs as they are commonly called, that it is becoming embarrassing. Google tells me that I am not alone in this failure. Nearly half of the internet feels my pain. Hmph, I am determined to get this right.

I refused to be beaten by a little small round French pastry. I am no expert baker, although I don’t consider myself a novice. Whichever way, I know that I am a trained lab researcher so this is how I am going to approach this.

I have a plan to attempt macarons at least once a week till I get it right. With each batch, a variable will be introduced and the nature of the variable would be dependable on the outcome of the previous session.

From previous macarons attempts, I constantly got flat, cratered, sticky macarons without the coveted ruffled foot. Ahh, the notorious foot.

Several factors can influence the foot-formation. Half of the articles on the internet will tell you to let your macarons rest after piping them on the tray. This is so that a ‘skin’ may form and when baked, the ‘skin’ will rise exposing the coveted ruffled feet.

However not everyone feels that way. Rob who works at Fauchon thinks that overfolding contributes to the lack of feet. Which sort of makes sense as well. Deflating the egg whites in the folding stage may cause a collapse in the macaron structure, leading to no rising and no feet. Interestingly, Rob does not believe in resting the piped batter and he gets great ruffled feet from baking them immediately. Tests of resting batter by David Lebovitz showed that resting does indeed leads to prettier feet.

I used to get no feet even with a long period of resting and I am slightly doubtful of rest being key to macaron feet. But the idea of the ‘skin’ forming and rising makes perfect sense to my logical mind so that would be my first variable in the series of macaron baking attempts.

I wonder how things will go from there.