• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

M

Macarons

The French macaron is distinct from other similarly named sweets, notably the American macaroon, coconut blobs sometimes dipped in chocolate. I once loved American macaroons, but some years ago I decided they were too sweet and, after trying French macarons, too limiting in flavor. French macarons are made with a large quantity of egg whites and are therefore very light, and they are a sandwich cookie—unlike a giant blob—with a flavored filling. Many people rave about the macarons at Ladurée, the pâtisserie credited with having invented them, but I think the macarons are substantially better at La Maison du Chocolat, Pierre Hermé, and Gérard Mulot—and, of late, at my own home.

Before I was in possession of I Love Macarons by Hisako Ogita (Chronicle, 2009), the recipe I used was from an old issue of Gourmet attributed to Mireille Guiliano, author of French Women Don’t Get Fat. The recipe is a good one, but required the assistance of my daughter to hold down the parchment paper on the pan so I could pipe the batter out of my pastry bag. Ogita explains so much more about the making of macarons—what can go wrong with the batter, how to make them with Italian meringue, how to add flavor to the batter, etc.—that I can’t imagine I’ll ever look back. It really helps that there are photographs, and I was happy to learn I can use my Silpat baking mat instead of rolled parchment paper! Plus Ogita is thoughtful enough to provide six recipes at the end of the book to use up all the egg yolks you’ll have left over from making the macarons.

Maille

Boutique Maille, at 6 place de la Madeleine in the eighth arrondissement (maille.com), is the Burgundy mustard company’s official representative in Paris, and it’s a good culinary stop to add to your itinerary. Founded in 1747, Maille is now owned by the mega-conglomerate Unilever, a far cry from the day in 1769 when Antoine Maille was named official vinaigrier-distillateur for the royal court of France. The reason to come here is not for the ordinary jars of mustard and condiments, which can reliably be found throughout North America, but for the freshly pumped mustards on the central counter, which come in attractive stoneware containers in three sizes. Three different mustards are offered daily, all of which are more potent than the Maille mustards imported in the States. The staff pumps your mustard choices into the jars and seals them with lids made of coated paper and cork. (Don’t worry: these will make it through your flight home just fine if placed upright in your carry-on luggage.) You can also purchase small wooden mustard spoons and some nice gift arrangements with mustards in painted faïence jars.

Photo Credit bm1.17

La Maison Ivre

Fans of Rimbaud will recognize the pun on his poem “Le Bateau Ivre” (The Drunken Boat) embedded in the name of this charming and hugely appealing shop, La Maison Ivre, founded by Sylvine Nobécourt in 1991 (38 rue Jacob, 6ème/maison-ivre.com). As Sylvine, who has a great sense of humor, tells it, she studied French literature at university and loved it, but didn’t know exactly what she wanted to do with it upon graduation. She’s not even sure she can pinpoint the day she came up with the idea for a store, but she does know that since the “great adventure began, I became entirely devoted to the store. In fact it is La Maison Ivre that has chosen me.” She likes the association between literature and her shop, devoted to “a symphony of colors to brighten your home,” and indeed the shop is filled with irresistible items. Here you’ll find torchons (tea towels) in more than fifty patterns, aprons, coasters and trivets (including some with the store’s logo), poterie artisanale—the store is a veritable showcase for handcrafted ceramics from several regions of France—and one-of-a-kind items like lavender wands. Sylvine’s wands are made by a woman in Provence who is one of the few people making them at all these days, and they are prettier and larger than others I’ve seen. I’ve loved these wands