I'm in a
cookie state of mind, it seems, so this post is sort of Part Two of last
week's.
To make a
true madeleine, you must have the right pans.
I do, thanks to a trip to France many, many years ago (they're a bit
bent because I had to stuff them in my suitcase). The finished product is shaped like an
elongated shell—a reference to medieval French pilgrimages? Or, as Julia
suggests, maybe some early cook tried baking them in a bunch of handy scallop
shells—which she claimed worked. If you don't have the pans, use any pans with
shallow molds (muffin tins will do) and call them Lemon Tea Cakes.
Madeleines
4 large
eggs, at room temperature
2/3 cup
sugar
2 tsp
vanilla extract
Grated rind
of one lemon
4 oz. (1
stick) unsalted butter
2/3 cup
all-purpose flour
1/3 cup
bleached cake flour
A pinch of
salt
Preheat the
oven to 375 degrees. Paint the Madeleine
molds with melted butter (mop up any that pools in the bottom)
In the bowl
of a stand mixer, break the eggs. On
slow speed, gradually add the sugar, then the vanilla and the lemon rind. Turn the speed to high and beat for five
minutes, until the mixture has doubled in volume (it should look like
mayonnaise).
Spoon the
batter into the buttered molds, about 3/4 full. Bake 10-12 minutes, or until
golden brown. Remove from the molds
immediately and let the madeleines cool on a wire rack. They're best eaten fresh (they get a little
gooey if they sit).
If you want
to emulate Proust, dip your madeleine first into a tisane de tilleul, which, if memory serves, in tea brewed from
linden leaves.
Bon appétit!
I'm quite convinced that I *must* now take a trip to France to buy madeleine forms as I'm certain that's the only place where one can buy proper ones. Right? ; )
ReplyDeleteThey sound so delicious! But why am I thinking about dipping them in chocolate instead of tea?
Absolutely, Krista! One must have the correct tools.
ReplyDeleteI was delighted to watch a 1963 episode of Julia Child's last night and find her using metal bowls--identical to the ones I bought at a neighbor's yard sale. We must be on the same wavelength. And she was the one who taught me that the right knife is essential.