Birth of the Salons de Thé (Tea Rooms)
Did Queen Catherine de’ Medici introduce the macaron to France when she left Italy to marry King Henry II or were they first served to guests at Versailles by the Sun King, King Louis XIV? Macarons known as “priests belly buttons” —small sweet crunchy almond cookies with a soft inside—were produced in Venetian monasteries or maybe French monasteries in the Loir Valley. The Macaron sisters, nuns in Nancy, France sold meringue shells to cover rent (hence the “Nancy Macaron”). Meringue-based macarons were sandwiched with either jam, buttercream or ganache filling in Paris, circa 1930 and the modern day “Paris macaron” was formed. Some say baker Claude Gerber sandwiched the macaron and others credit Pierre Desfontaines of pâtisserie Ladurée.
During the Belle Époque, Ladurée created one of the first luxury Parisian tea rooms, attracting posh ladies with romantic muted colors, ornate surroundings, gilded mirrors, a cherub-painted ceiling and the thrill of attending a respectable café without male chaperones. They would admire the large plate glass windows filled with elaborate window displays of delightful confections. The posh ladies—wearing chic S-bend silhouettes, leg-o’-mutton sleeves, hats adorned with birds and feathers and ribbons, and carrying parasols in gloved hands—were there to socialize over tea. Slightly different than today’s influencers trekking in with travel tripods, clip on ring lights, collapsable reflectors, mics and smartphones there to capture the glamour of pyramid stacks, ombre rows and artful towers of macarons in Paris.
A side note of technicality: The double decker macarons filled with ganache we are accustomed to are Parisian macarons circa 1930. They did not exist in early 1900. My pâtisserie was built during the Belle Époque and several decades later is evolving to new pastry standards.
Making Macarons
Making miniature macarons was my premier experience with polymer clay that cures when baked. The learning curve was steep. Various types of clay differ in consistency, bake times, surface finishes and the ability to cut and sand once hardened. I unknowingly selected my clay based on color and each color had its challenges based on the clay type. Big lesson. I mixed these different types—including translucent—together to create a more natural-looking depth, producing a blend of clay types and issues.
As a note: French macarons are typically small. They have a perfectly uniform pied (foot) with a ruffled edge and a smooth domed top coque (shell).
I initially purchased a 1:12 scaled macaron mold touted as the “real” miniaturized size, made by a miniature artist. I trusted this over the plethora of other molds with sketchy miniature scales. I fired up my assembly line of making Israeli couscous-sized polymer balls, placing them in a very tiny mold, delicately removing the molded piece without destroying or warping it and placing it foot down on a parchment covered baking sheet. This requires patience and perseverance as each macaron takes two shells. I eagerly watched them bake for 30 minutes and impatiently let them cool. They resembled UFOs.
I measured the UFOs. They were indeed correctly sized (you take a real measurement and divide by 12 for 1:12 scale), however they needed more dome.
I remembered a miniaturist explain how sometimes you need to exaggerate a part when miniaturizing so that it “reads right.”
Prime example here. One of the sketchy-scaled molds worked great, production resumed. Each tiny macaron shell had to be trimmed of excess if I got sloppy with mold making; my quality standards were on a diminishing spectrum. Next up, the ganache. Macaron variety charts gave color combos that would appeal more realistic. I used a polymer clay made specifically for icing miniature confections (found this while looking for the molds). Must be quite a market for this since some of the icing colors were sold out, but white plus mixed in color worked fine. The ganache was literally “piped in” with a syringe and then the shells were sandwiched and left to dry. Now the part I was waiting for: the displays.
Macaron Display Case
Historically, food was often displayed in pyramid stacks to give the illusion of abundance and visibility. Many Parisian pâtisseries still adhere to this traditional method of display.
I am drawn more to the colorful linear organization of macarons showing off the uniformity and revealing the vivid ganache filling combos. Enter the display case. I sorted them in an appealing array to my eye and glued the macarons to a matte board ramp, covering up as many imperfections as I could. Added gilded trim, mini newell posts and clear plastic “glass” and I was thrilled with the result!
Macaron Towers
During the Belle Époque circa 1900, French confectioners made pièces montés—dummy spun sugar towers as revolutionary, dramatic window display marketing; indicating the status symbol for elite Parisian pâtisseries. They signaled structural perfection, sugar mastery and absolute cleanliness. Decades later macaron towers became vogue. Dried out single macaron shells without ganache were sugar-glued to cones. Sometimes they painted clay replicas to last longer than real macarons.
Making macaron towers seemed daunting and short of macaron-tower-class, I purchased a digital PDF. One makes varying proportional graduated bases with clay, cooks them and then pipes icing decorations on the sides, leaving to dry. I was happy I had the premade icing and syringe. Cones are also clay-constructed and I found out later the EXACT measurement of these was critical, but was able to whittle some down. Decorated base + cone creates the framework for the tower, just as it would in real life.
Macarons are glued in alternating colors (ombre is modern) and one is applied at the peak. Seems easy, but cone size dictated how many macarons fit around the circumference and the cone had to be perfectly tapered or else the macarons wouldn’t fit. The guide called for half shelled macarons towards the top, however mine were all solidly stuck together; not an option. Some of my towers were better than others. I should have remade exact cones—this was evident in macarons not fitting snuggly, creating macaron gaps. Macaron-gapped-towers would have to go in the rear of the pâtisserie. It didn’t matter, I loved them.