Yes I did.
Not only did i make macarons, I made macarons in Paris.
Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe that equates to double the Brittany is a Parisienne points. N’est-ce pas?
Ok, so technically we made french macarons in Paris using the Italian method, but that’s neither here nor there and you don’t care about that and neither do I. And that does NOT take away from my Brittany is a Parisienne points.
The making of the macarons:
No, he hasn’t been knighted, but I kinda just knighted him there.. ish.. didn’t I. Henceforth known as Sir David.
No, scratch that. Master David. As in Jedi Master. As in my Jedi Master of Paris and all things food.
Woah woah woah, back to the point. So David was hosting a rendezvous, hot chocolate drinking, macaron-eating and book signing the following day at La Cuisine de Paris and he posted it on his bloggity.
I did some interweb creepin’.
Turned out that La cuisine offers a full range of English taught cooking, pastry-making, and market perusing classes. I saw Macarons.
I know, I know. BRITT what are you doing. You’re in France to learn French. Get out of that damn english speaking cooking class and sign up for one of their (available!) French cooking classes, you weak-willed female.
My excuses: It was like, my second week here, chill. Even listening to the explanations for the delays on the metro PA system stressed me out. Also, it’s a super great way to meet other expats in the same situation. Networking people. Networking. Oh yeah, finally, I actually wanted to know HOW to make the macarons. Sure I’d be able to get the gist of it en Français, but guaranteed I would mis-interperet some extra important tip like wait for at least two days before you try to eat your macarons or else they will be dry and less awesome, for something wrong and similar like, don’t wait two days before eating the macarons or else they will be dry and not awesome. Heed the warning and avoid temptation for the first two days, believe you me.
How was the class you ask?
- I met fellow macaron enthusiasts. There was Jenny, the instructor and former Ladurée pastry chef herself (who now runs her own pastry show at Kooka boora café), there was David, a fellow food blogger fresh on the Parisian culinary scene, and there were countless others to help me measure out passionfruit purée or swoon over our little almond-based children.
- I learned the process, start to finish. Aaand a few little tips and tricks. I wanted my Macs to have “feet” and damn straight, we got feet.
- I had a few laughs. Hey there Dave. You’ve got a little meringue on your face. It’s been there for twenty minutes.
- I felt at home. In Paris. At home in Paris. I think that means I’m Parisienne? Yes indeed it does. I was in Paris, learning to do as they do, and didn’t feel overwhelmed, or stressed, or like I definitely didn’t have the right paperwork to survive the day, which is otherwise often the case.
Please, if you’re in Paris, take home a souvenir like this.
One part memorable.
Another part edible.
My final tip? watch what you’re doing with your hands while you’re piping. Making such delicate creations shouldn’t be so offensive. C’mon self. Think of the children.
OH OH! Did I tell you who got to eat my Macarons the next day at La Cuisine de Paris?!
Master David Lebovitz himself. I warned him I would make a ridiculous face. Hi David.
To bring ‘er all back: This week is my first (of many) breaks from school. WOO. I’m headed to the Swiss Alps to the town of Interlaken. Yes. It is between two lakes. Funny how names work.
I’m going to go skiiiiiiing (or boarding). I’m going to eat fooonduuuueee. I’m going to take piiiictuuuures. I’m going to tell you all about it. It’s going to be fabulous. It has to be. I have yet to meet a swiss individual that I did not adore. Or a swiss cheese.
Until next time amigos.