Bonjour madame. Comment t'allez vous? Is what met me when I walked through the doors of Alliance Française de Chicago. While I did manage to reply to his query as to how I was doing, when the very dapper gentleman asked me how he could be of assistance I froze. He immediately, and yet with the utmost politeness, switched to English and asked me if I was there for the macaron class. I should have been able to respond in French but I think I was just not prepared and my shyness overwhelmed me. I did at least manage to recover a bit and explain I only spoke a little bit of French in French.
Alliance Française is a bit of France in the midst of Chicago. Located in one of the beautiful mansions on Dearborn right off of Chicago it is nestled on a tree lined street and is just shouting distance from the Newberry Library. I cannot believe it has taken me this long to go. I was there on Saturday morning, bright and early, for a macaroon cooking class. I had never thought of making a macaron before and I admit I had no burning desire to bake a macaron, but when I saw the course advertised I could not resist recapturing just a hint of the flavor of Paris.
I sat down at a table with two other ladies and I picked a very good seat indeed. One was Barbara who comes into Chicago quite often to take cooking classes. She is a bit of a gourmand (and has her own blog) amidst, what sounded to me, like a food wasteland. Esther lives in Chicago, but it did not sound like she baked much. We had a delightful time cooking together and we made a formidable team. We also got reprimanded for having too much fun. C'est très jolie.
In Paris macaroons line the shop window of Hèrmes, Ladurée, or Gérard Mulot beckon you to come in and give them a try. The windows are lined with bright colorful convections and it is impossible to not stop in for just one. No, really just one. Ok, or maybe two. A macaron is a bit crisp on the outside and then the inside of the macaron cookie is a bit chewy and then the filling is a burst of sweetness on the tongue. They are petit but meant to be savored. It is hard not to equate Paris with macaroons. The macaron is made with almond meal and confectioners sugar and egg whites that are beaten until they look like the kitchen aid mixer had turned into a cement truck. You then mix the almond meal, sugar and egg whites together, except mix is not quite the right word. You mash the mixture against the bowl until it achieves a liquid fluidity. Even typing that I know it sounds absurd, but that is the magic of the macaron.
Our instructor was a delightful woman. Her name is Madelaine and she definitely imparts her passion for France and cooking in her teaching. She gave us some of the tips to make the very temperamental macaron. The first group made chocolate macarons and while their cookie tasted good, the texture was a bit off. Our group made vanilla macaron with a conficture filling of raspberry jam. I took a bite and told my classmates that it tasted as good as the ones in Paris. The texture and taste was spot on. Our instructor came by and took a bite and said while the chocolate ones tasted good, these were just right. We all wandered around the classroom tasting each others endeavors until each and every macaron was gone. It took such little time for them to be devoured.
I went alone because I am trying to be a bit more brave, a bit more outgoing and a bit more adventurous. I am glad I did because I met two delightful ladies that I hope to share more culinary experiences with. I also got to feel, for a brief moment, especially with my cape blowing in the breeze as I walked down the leaf strewn street, like I was walking down a Parisienne street.
Alliance Française is a bit of France in the midst of Chicago. Located in one of the beautiful mansions on Dearborn right off of Chicago it is nestled on a tree lined street and is just shouting distance from the Newberry Library. I cannot believe it has taken me this long to go. I was there on Saturday morning, bright and early, for a macaroon cooking class. I had never thought of making a macaron before and I admit I had no burning desire to bake a macaron, but when I saw the course advertised I could not resist recapturing just a hint of the flavor of Paris.
I sat down at a table with two other ladies and I picked a very good seat indeed. One was Barbara who comes into Chicago quite often to take cooking classes. She is a bit of a gourmand (and has her own blog) amidst, what sounded to me, like a food wasteland. Esther lives in Chicago, but it did not sound like she baked much. We had a delightful time cooking together and we made a formidable team. We also got reprimanded for having too much fun. C'est très jolie.
In Paris macaroons line the shop window of Hèrmes, Ladurée, or Gérard Mulot beckon you to come in and give them a try. The windows are lined with bright colorful convections and it is impossible to not stop in for just one. No, really just one. Ok, or maybe two. A macaron is a bit crisp on the outside and then the inside of the macaron cookie is a bit chewy and then the filling is a burst of sweetness on the tongue. They are petit but meant to be savored. It is hard not to equate Paris with macaroons. The macaron is made with almond meal and confectioners sugar and egg whites that are beaten until they look like the kitchen aid mixer had turned into a cement truck. You then mix the almond meal, sugar and egg whites together, except mix is not quite the right word. You mash the mixture against the bowl until it achieves a liquid fluidity. Even typing that I know it sounds absurd, but that is the magic of the macaron.
Our instructor was a delightful woman. Her name is Madelaine and she definitely imparts her passion for France and cooking in her teaching. She gave us some of the tips to make the very temperamental macaron. The first group made chocolate macarons and while their cookie tasted good, the texture was a bit off. Our group made vanilla macaron with a conficture filling of raspberry jam. I took a bite and told my classmates that it tasted as good as the ones in Paris. The texture and taste was spot on. Our instructor came by and took a bite and said while the chocolate ones tasted good, these were just right. We all wandered around the classroom tasting each others endeavors until each and every macaron was gone. It took such little time for them to be devoured.
I went alone because I am trying to be a bit more brave, a bit more outgoing and a bit more adventurous. I am glad I did because I met two delightful ladies that I hope to share more culinary experiences with. I also got to feel, for a brief moment, especially with my cape blowing in the breeze as I walked down the leaf strewn street, like I was walking down a Parisienne street.
Vanilla macaron just before they go into the oven.
Our plate of vanilla macaron.
Look at that luscious jam just oozing between the macaron cookies.
Mmmm. Chocolate and mocha.
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