[Life in pink - Pierre Hermé’s Rose macarons]

Adapted from Pierre Hermé’s PH10

I think one of the best secrets for incredible food is bright and eye-catching colours; at least in the patisserie realm.
You’re not so sure?
Check Ladurée’s religieuse, Fauchon’s éclairs or Hermé’s truffles. Don’t they look yummy?

I do love black and white photos but I believe that colour photography enhances the deliciousness of food.
However some people can even make food look scrumptious in b&w.
But to tell the truth, when I look at black and white food pictures, my eyes do their best to retrieve the colours.
Though, it seems that simple objects (like vegetables or fruits) benefits from black and white; in contrast elaborated dishes can’t go without colour (at least in my mind). I’m afraid to say that even if this quiche looks mouth-watering, a colour picture would have made it twice as good.There is something I particularly fancy about colour in food: when the colour leads your senses somewhere the taste definitely isn’t. Imagine a red religieuse. You think strawberry. I say tomato. Another good example is the crème brûlée I recently made. Green! You think Matcha. I say Guimauve.
Here are the consequences of the trendy cuisine.
But sometimes it can be a disappointment; the reality being far from what you expected.
That’s why I have to admit I also like colours to be more classic: chocolate brown for chocolat or purple for violette.

I love to describe a colour tone by adding a food adjective (like pistache for pistachio green) because it shows how much food and colour are related.
One of the best example remains rose.
Rose is both a colour [pink] and a flower [rose].

You might have noticed I am a big pink lover: from life in general to food (one of my pictures was even said to have an Alice in Wonderland look).
So when I saw this recipe for Rose Macarons in my favourite Pâtisserie cookbook, I had to make it.

Macarons à la rose
Macarons are quite tricky. When making them you should really take care to the following few points:
1. Blitz in a food processor the almonds and icing sugar for a good minute.
2. Sieve the almond/icing sugar powder twice.
3. Bring the syrup (used for the Italian meringue) to at least 120°C.
4. Continue whisking the meringue until it’s almost cold.
5. Watch the oven temperature – too hot and the macarons will crack (I recommend 160°C).
I followed all these steps and after a almost disaster, I finally came up with my almost perfect macarons.
You should have seen me, jumping, shouting and singing in the kitchen. Anyway it’s been one of the best food moments of my life.

These macarons are luscious. I love the combination of almond and rose, filling the house and hearts with a delicious Mediterranean scent.

I didn’t have any rose syrup and essence on hand so I used a 50g of
Confit de Rose instead.
A great add-on would be to sprinkle the ganache with bits of Rose Nougat.

Adapted from Donna Hay’s magazine (n°21)

I recently stumbled upon a great French épicerie which sells lots of original ingredients, served in beautiful packages.When browsing through their website, i fell in love with some of their products. I really had to try them! I sampled:
- huile d’olive extra vierge à la vanille [extra virgin vanilla olive oil] (can’t wait to try drizzling it over a good homemade vanilla ice cream or over lobster)
- vinaigre balsamique à la framboise [raspberry balsamic vinegar]
- sel de Guérande aux cinq baies [Guérande sea salt with 5 peppercorns]
- sucre coco-vanille [vanilla and coconut sugar]
- and last but not least, my favourite: sucre à la guimauve [guimauve sugar]

As soon as i got this sugar, i couldn’t help but think about the endless possibilities: ice cream, panna cotta, raspberry soup…

After hours of deep brainstorming i had my dessert: a delicious crème brûlée. I did think the crème brûlée will turn out green as the sugar is blue, but i really didn’t mind: it had to be this.

Guimauve is a French kind of marshmallow. The name comes from the plant: Althaea officinalis (french name - guimauve officinale) which was used instead of gelatin.

Nowadays guimauve is made the same way marshmallows are made.

Though french guimauves are slightly more sophisticated, both by their name and orange blossom flavour.

Crème brûlée à la guimauve
I only replaced the caster sugar by the guimauve sugar i had bought.
These crèmes are heaven: a crisp sugar coating and a melting/velvety inside.
I reckon the guimauve flavour does add something: color and taste-wise (the flavour is enhanced by the luscious custard).
If you can’t find guimauve sugar, feel free to melt some bought guimauves into the cream used for the custard.

PS. I accidentaly deleted all the comments for this article. Sorry.

[Happy father’s day, Daddy - Delicious apple tart]

J’espère que tu vas passer une bonne journée.
Je te fais plein de bisous.
Fanny
PS: Maman, j’en profite pour te souhaiter une bonne fête aussi (avec un peu de retard!).

An apple tart is something nobody can resist. It’s the never-fail dessert.
People coming? Just quickly make the shortcrust pastry, cut the apples and you’re ready to provide something simple yet delicious.
If you ask different people how they make their apple pie, you’ll end up collecting tons of different recipes that’ll span every realm, from tarte fine aux pommes to butterscotch apple tart; from double apple pie to tarte tatin.

I like my apple tart to have a custardy-filling as I reckon it adds a creaminess the apples alone can’t bring.
Or maybe you’ll prefer picking a nice red apple directly from the tree?

Tarte aux pommes délicieuse
This tart is a good way to use late apples.
I love it still warm with a scoop of vanilla icecream.

[Travel through time - Chewy peanut butter cookies]

American and British cuisines are becoming a big phenomenon, here in France. Everyone wants his piece of cheesecake, his fairycake or his pancakes.
Actually I reckon it is a good thing that British food finally meets the glory it deserves.

I discovered AmerEnglish food quite early in life. At that time, I would only swear by carrot cakes, London cheesecakes and muffins.
These were so easy to make for a 10-year-old but were also very rewarding: tasty, moist and delicious.

When I went through this ‘I love American and British food’ phase, one of my favourite ingredients was peanut butter.
I guess I won’t be wrong by saying that, in France, we have some wonderful butter. Thus, I was a bit unsure of the combinaison of cachuète and beurre. Was it butter with peanut chunks?
The answer finally came when my mother agreed to buy me a jar of peanut butter. Tout ça pour ça? C’est juste une crème marron [All that mess, just for a brownish paste?].

But when I opened the jar, an irresistible smell came out of it: peanuty yet very sweet.
I could here the crushed peanut shouting ‘Eat me, please’. I grabbed the nearest spoon and delighted myself with that sticky paste.

Today, I still love peanut butter, though I buy it less often because of its processed nature.
I have to admit peanut butter isn’t that good. But to be honest, I think the only reason I find it so yummy is nostalgia. I might be a bit of a bore with that, but you know how much I believe of the power of the food you’ve eaten as a child.
Some people have to invent complex machines to travel through time. My solution is far easier. I just open a jar of peanut butter and its smell sends me ten years back.

Chewy peanut butter cookies
I love these cookies: chewy inside and crispy outside.
And the big bonus is the wonderful taste of peanut.
Really, what’s not to love? Chewy cookies + delicious peanut-ish taste!

[How come you’re bored of eating strawberries]

Sometimes, you’ve got to face the truth: you’re addicted.
I don’t know about you, but the less time a product is available, the more I become obsessed with it.
Strawberries are a good example.
They start pointing their nose out around mid-may and disappear by the end of July. Almost three months, you tell me. Yes sure, but I’ll answer: only three months!
But I should consider myself pretty lucky to have real-ruby-red-home-grown strawberries as soon as the beginning of May.

It’s now accurate that I do love strawberries. Indeed I love them in every single way.
As a fruit, they’re just perfect: juicy, tangy, tasty and gorgeous looking.

Strawberries are so versatile: the real food chameleon.
Fresh, I like them dipped in sugar or in melted chocolate, cut into cubes and drizzled with balsamic vinegar…
Other great options are countless: from a mousse to a soup, from a compote to a posh entremet.
Two problems remain:
- too little time
- too many ways to use strawberries

So basically what happens is that you end up making a new strawberry thing everyday and everyone — except you — gets bored with strawberries.

Strawberry (soy)milkshake
I love the way the soymilk outlines the natural freshness and creaminess of the strawberries.
This drink is very refreshing and makes a great snack for hot summer days.