As I just left Paris and with that, my weekly dose of macarons, I begged New York Times Style Magazine columnist Charlotte Druckman to share the research she did to in order to write one of the best write-ups on macarons ever for Departures magazine. It’s so thorough, it will make your head spin; there are just so many gorgeous spots across this planet where you can grab (or order via mail) a fresh, soft macaron. Below, she gets into the details. (The above photo is by by manda)

Tell me all the research, sugar, weight gain/loss involved with writing this glorious piece for Departures magazine.

Oh boy. Well, I have a sweet tooth. Whenever I’m in Paris, I will walk into any bakery that catches my eye/nose and try something. I only feel compelled to finish it if I really like it. Otherwise, I just keep tasting, as though I’m in search of some holy grail.

Photo by Yuichi Sakakuraba

Truth be told, my favorite French pastry is the Palmier (that caramelized puff pastry confection also called an elephant ear). I’ve been known to gather Palmiers as I walk. I look for the dark, well-caramelized ones. No anemic ones allowed.

Anyway, I wasn’t particularly sold on the macaron (they’re super sweet), and I’d tried the Laduree ones–the caramel with salted butter, strawberry, and when they have it, almond are best. I liked them, but I wasn’t hooked. Then, I went to Pierre Hermé.

Photo by Yuichi Sakakuraba

Were it not for Hermé, I’d be unmoved by the macaron. His won me over. Later on, I was assigned that story, because they knew that I’d either already tried those macarons, or that I would go to any lengths to do so. It was such fun. I had to order lots of things overnighted, because I was back in the states. You’d be surprised how many people were willing to facilitate that research (bakers and tasters alike). I was staying at my parents’ house, coincidentally, because my apartment was being repaired, so, I had people to help me judge. People I trust. I think I paid them back for their hospitality and patience in macarons. Mom and I decided to revisit my childhood and bake together. We made macarons, of course, for research. They weren’t very successful, but I know why. I got lazy with the egg whites.

I tasted as much as I could. There were two instances where the bakeries were unwilling to ship–one in London, the other in San Francisco. I had two good friends and fellow food-crazies taste for me and take notes so I could make sure we had an accurate, fair account.

Photo by jinquon luo

Now go take a peek at her exhaustive macaron list to find your nearest sugary treat to enjoy with your next cup of tea, coffee, or perhaps, champagne!

Charlotte is currently co-writing Anita Lo’s first cookbook with her, and just wrote the article she’s been waiting to write for a few years, on women chefs for the 10th anniversary issue of Gastronomica. This is the fifth in a series of blog interviews with Charlotte. Read part 1, part 2, and part 3.

Photo by Maggie Battista

I’m crazy about salted caramels. This past Christmas I even got it into my head to make them as gifts. I got out my candy thermometer, and with that in hand, I confidently watched over my boiling pot of goodness (sugar, corn syrup and fresh vanilla bean), diligently checking the temperature until it reached 245°. Temperature is important to candy-making, and I knew that even with my limited experience, but somewhere along the line I still screwed up.

After I’d let my caramel rest in a pan overnight and turned it out onto waxed paper to cut into bite-sized pieces, it oozed to the sides of the paper – and there was nothing I could do to contain it. This caramel was sad, not liquid caramel just right for serving over ice cream and not chewy caramel, for snacking. This caramel was just plain wrong. I’ll try again, eventually, but for now, I’m sticking to Liddabit Sweets’ salted caramels instead. These delicious treats are perfectly soft, perfectly chewy and perfectly sweet and savory.

The women behind Liddabit Sweets in Brooklyn are Liz Gutman and Jen King. They met while studying pastry at the French Culinary Institute, and in 2009, they launched Liddabit Sweets, where they hand make small-batch candies using fresh, local ingredients. The star ingredient in their caramels, for example, is cream from Ronnybrook Farm Dairy in upstate New York. Maldon salt, a flaky sea salt from England, also lends a more subtle flavor than regular table salt. They make several different varieties of caramel, including seasonal flavors (like preserved lemon & olive oil or chocolate black truffle), but the salted caramels are my favorite – and luckily those are always available.

I attended my first Paris party last week, and arrived with this apple and rhubarb tart from Les Petits Mitrons. (More on that Paris party in another post soon.) I was so enraptured by the crunchy crust, glazed apples and tender rhubarb that I fell in love on the spot. I carefully prepared for its purchase, visiting the shop a few times to ensure I’d find a fresh one on the day of the party. It was lovingly nestled into this pretty pink box.

The tart was so lovely on this delicate plate, provided by the hosts. No one wanted to cut into it, but everyone wanted a bite.

Up close, I admired the glazed apple wedges and bits of still bright red rhubarb, a fruit that tends to lose its color after being cooked. Les Petits Mitrons must use some sort of magic on their tarts because STILL BRIGHT RED.

The tart was one of the last things we cut into that evening. For me, I just wanted to stare at the glorious site.

And as the sun set, the tart remained intact for a few minutes after I snapped this shot. The setting sun granted us permission to finally cut it up into thick wedges. It was very fruity, and not too sweet. The crust was burnt and caramelized, in the best possible way.

You may know Rockport, Massachusetts for its little red shack at the end of the pier, its picturesque harbor crowded with fishing boats, but do you know about its donuts?

The best, the absolute best, homemade donuts come from a sliver of a place on Rockport’s Main St., just across from the Congregational Church, which is the biggest, whitest building in town, and still has a Revolutionary War cannonball lodged in its steeple.

The truest test of an excellent donut is that you don’t want to confuse its simplicity with cinnamon, crème, or, god forbid, chocolate.  The Coffee Shop donuts are food perfection plain: a delicately crunchy outer layer that collapses at one’s tooth, revealing a perfect cake of pale yellow crumb.  Match it with a black cup of coffee and you have one of the world’s best marriages, akin to foie gras and sauterne.

The building, one door and one window wide, is so unassuming one can’t believe anything special happens inside, and that’s the way Rockporters like it.  A plain sign says “Coffee Shop,” no reference, except for the wooden rolling pin below, to the humble treats stacked on trays within.

Walk in on a cold January morning, or even a hot July afternoon, and it’s only Rockporters on the stools at the counter.  It’s as if the shops in town that sell muffins and cinnamon buns were put there by the sly Swedes (Rockport is heavily Scandinavian) as red herrings to keep the tourists from discovering the secret, delicious donuts.  The Coffee Shop, by the way, also sells wonderful Swedish Coffee Rolls and Nisu bread.

If you’re at all like me, you probably get a craving for a little something in the late afternoon, just a treat to see you through to the end of the day – and to dinner of course! I usually try to restrain myself to a cup of tea, but oh that tea tastes so much better with a sweet, nothing too rich, but just a cookie or biscuit or…lemon rosemary shortbread. Yes, earl grey tea with lemon rosemary shortbread is the perfect afternoon pick-me-up, like a little ray of sunshine in what would otherwise be a bleak February afternoon.

I got inspired to make lemon rosemary shortbread after a good friend (wink wink Maggie) sent me some Lark Fine Foods Salted Rosemary Shortbread over the holidays. It was delicious, sweet but also savory, and I got hooked, so I needed to make my own. I took a basic shortbread recipe, where the star ingredient is butter (try not to think about it), then added sea salt, chopped rosemary, lemon juice and lemon zest. The end result is the perfect teatime snack.

Lemon Rosemary Shortbread

Ingredients

• 3 sticks of unsalted butter (room temperature)
• 1 cup of sugar
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
• 3 cups flour
• 1 teaspoon sea salt
• 2 tablespoons lemon juice
• 1 teaspoon lemon zest
• 1 tablespoon chopped rosemary

Mix together butter and sugar until combined. Add vanilla, lemon juice and zest.

Mix flour and salt together, then add to the butter and sugar. Add the rosemary. Mix together and shape into a flat disk. Wrap in plastic and chill for 30 minutes.

Roll the dough one-half inch thick and cut cookies. Place on an ungreased baking sheet and cook for 10 to 12 minutes at 350 degrees, until just brown around the edges. Watch them closely, since they can crisp up quickly at the end.

I’ve never really considered myself a baker. Some people cook. Some people bake. I don’t really bake.

I truly, simply love the limitless flavor combinations that cooking permits. Add a little of this or a little of that and viola, something gorgeous takes shape instantly. Baking simply isn’t that forgiving. And neither is a creme patissiere, the gooey chocolate, cream and egg yolk mixture that I made to slather in between the cocoa-flavored meringue layers. For a non-baker like me, it was hard.

I’ve the hard work was worth it. This goddess-like concoction was for dear friend. She’s made a Moroccan dinner and I drooled through Nigella Lawson’s “How to be a Domestic Goddess” to find a Moroccan-worthy accompaniment. This pistachio-studded stack did the trick.

If you opt to attempt the recipe, strive to have everything ready ahead of time; measure out all the ingredients and melt the chocolate. I made the meringues the night before and let them rest in the oven overnight, a tip Nigella recommends in her book. It really made the work of whipping up the chocolate creme patissiere far less stressful.

My only complaint is that the meringue color is a lot lighter than the creme, unlike the photo in her book. I was excited for monochromatic, rich brown layers of shine and matte. That said, my version looks very homemade and my host totally appreciated that hand-made look.

The taste was delicious. The meringue is sweet and sugary; the creme is dark, rich, mousse-like and, frankly, not very sweet at all. I’ll keep you posted on my first bite! Check out her recipe here.

I rarely buy jam nowadays. I am so impressed with what a little low heat, sugar and fruit can turn into in a matter of an hour or two. I made this jam with a pile of pears from my local farm. The vanilla extract was homemade. The ginger, pineapple and lemons came to my kitchen from far away but were sourced organically by the same local farm who got me those pears.

During this past Thanksgiving, each guest slathered some of this jam on their bread on the day after, along with a big pat of butter. Then each guest went home with a golden-hued jam jar. I’m giving them away this holiday season too, and found a lovely version of Pear Jam from Silverbrook Farm to include in my holiday giftbox.

Pear Pineapple Ginger Jam

Ingredients

12 pears, cleaned, cored, peeled and sliced into 1″ pieces
1 stub of ginger, peeled
1 whole pineapple, cleaned, cored and cut into 1” cubes
1 cup of lemon juice, 4 big lemons juiced
4 1/2 cups of organic sugar
1 1/2 tablespoons of vanilla extract
3 tablespoons crystallized ginger, finely chopped
1 tablespoon orange flower water

Toss all the ingredients into a pot on the stove. Simmer over medium-low heat until tender, stirring occasionally, about 10 minutes. Reduce heat to low; simmer until mixture drops thickly from spoon, stirring often, about 1 hour. Remove the ginger carefully. While still hot, pour the jam into small 4-ounce jars and water-bath them according to your own canning process. I water-bathed these jars for about 20 minutes, and then carefully removed the jars to rest on a towel until cool. Label the jars and give away liberally!

Each month, Boldfacers, an online magazine that profiles up and coming Bostonians, launches a pop-up store to showcase local talent according to a chosen theme. This Sunday December 12th, “Chocolate: The Odyssey Pop-up” will be open for tasting and shopping, featuring some very luxe chocolate delights by some very luxe chefs and candy makers. Sunday’s amazing line-up includes: Joanne Chang of Flour, Barbara Lynch of No. 9 and Sportello fame, Harbor Sweets and the MIT Chocolate Lab. Make sure to look at for the boYO hot chocolate bar. 

Here are the details: Sat. Dec. 12th from 12 – 6pm, at 15 Channel Center St., South Boston.

A fabulously crafty friend shared this recipe with me last year and, after a few adjustments, it’s now my go-to toffee recipe. It’s ridiculously easy and ridiculously loaded with butter, both in a good way. I submitted the original recipe to this Bon Appetit contest last week. I’d be so pleased if you wanted to vote for it over there!

Graham Cracker Toffee

Ingredients:

• 12 graham crackers broken into halves sections (or 24 squares)
• 1/2 pound butter (2 sticks)
• 3/4 cup light brown sugar
• 3/4 cup chopped nuts (walnuts, pecans or pistachios)
• 3/4 cup bitter sweet chocolate chips
• 4 tablespoons milk

Line a jelly roll or cookie sheet (with low sides) with aluminum foil. Place the crackers in the pan, with their sides touching. Over low heat, melt the butter. Stir in the sugar and simmer (not boil) about 10 minutes until it melts, occasionally stirring. Pour the butter-sugar mixture over the crackers and spread evenly. Sprinkle with chopped nuts. Bake at 350 degrees for 8-10 minutes.  Keep an eye on them so they don’t burn. Cool & separate onto aluminum foil. Over low heat melt the chocolate chips and stir in milk. Top crackers with ribbons of melted chocolate by dribbling off a spoon. Add more milk if the chocolate is too thick to form a ribbon. Let cool for 2-4 hours, and then package and give away to friends!