How to cook perfect chocolate macarons Of all the food crazes of recent years, are macarons worth the hype? One of Felicity's perfect chocolate macarons. Photograph: Felicity Cloake I must admit that, when my editor suggested macaroons for this column, I hoped she was talking about the sweet, coconutty kind found in every high-street bakers or, at a pinch, the crisp almond biscuitsof the same name from Lorraine. Basically, anything but the impossibly pretty sort found posing in every Parisian patisserie window. While I fondly believe my Victoria sponge would have a fair chance at an averagely competitive village fete, macarons (they deserve the dignity of a fancy French name, let's face it) strike fear into my heart. They demand patience and precision – both skills that come about as naturally to me as unicycling. They're just so ... stylish. And sadly, that's not the first word most of my friends would use to describe me. On that basis alone, I'd like to be against macarons in the same way I'm firmly contra-cupcake – but I just can't be, because unlike said sugar-stuffed monstrosity, they're more than just a pretty face. The crisp, rainbow-bright shell that cracks at the faintest dental pressure, that soft, delicately chewy, nutty interior, to say nothing of the silky smooth ganache which sandwiches the two halves together: quite simply, they're sublime, one of the finest examples of the French patissier's art. Until last week I was, like most Parisians, of the opinion that, like the croissant, they're best left to the experts. After all, why sweat over a hot stove in a frumpy apron when the likes of Ladurée and Pierre Hermémake better macarons than I could ever hope to for just £1.85 a pop – ah. That's why. Also, of course, a challenge is fun. I've chosen to make chocolate macarons, on the basis that this is one of the few flavours which allows a like-for-like comparison of recipes from some of the masters of the art, but once you've nailed the basic technique, macarons are one of those things that reward a little bit of creative cookery. And you will master it, I promise. All right, so, as experienced macaron makers will no doubt observe, my piping could use a little work – but trust me, practice makes even more perfect. And I intend to do a lot of practising.
