The Making of (French) Macarons

I got married and am swamped with wedding cake of three flavours - chocolate, lemon, and fruit. So until I (and my husband) finish the insane amount of cake occupying our freezer at the moment, I have banned myself from baking any cakes or cake variants (cupcakes, muffins, etc). But you know me, I have the baking bug and I can't leave the oven alone.

Thus came an idea. Macarons. These delightfully colourful bite-sized pieces of heaven I've spent a majority of my adult life obsessing over. Soft and crispy outside with a chewy marshmallowy centre. You have no idea until you've tried one.

The problem with obsessing over macarons: it's pretty expensive when you go out and buy some when it's around £1 for a macaron.

The problem with making them yourself: there is so much fear surrounding the making of macaron.

I'm not even kidding. Ask any hobbyist baker and budding chefs. Macaron is a challenge. Failure is not optional, it's pretty much what you expect when you start out. Everyone who makes macarons has had episodes of complete frustration when the shells end up cracked, uneven, sticky, hollow, burnt, etc. You get the idea. Delicate things, in more ways than one.

I've tried to make macarons twice now. My first attempt was on Monday. Sunny day, in case you want to know the weather. A bit of a bite in the air. Some say that high humidity can cause macaron failure, so this day should, in theory, be perfect.

I've read up a lot on this topic, and the best resource I've found so far is Stella@bravetart, who makes these little culinary delicacies for a living. She posted a lot of information about the myths of macaron-making which is not only interesting, but also good in dispelling a lot of the fears surrounding the making of macaron (so you would actually be tempted to attempt it).

My first attempt, I followed Stella's instructions to the letter, except for the ageing of the egg whites - I had already aged some egg whites in my fridge for 24 hours at this point.

What I did not do that goes against common macaron myths:
- drying almond flour
- using cream of tartare
- using Italian meringue
- babying the meringue
- drying piped macarons
- doubling up baking tray
- be French

I pretty much dump the sugar into the egg whites at the beginning, and then dump the sifted almond mix into the meringue and folded. No babying there.

In hindsight, I may have overfolded slightly on the last stage before piping. Also in hindsight, I probably should've tried harder to find baking paper instead of using greaseproof paper (different things, in case you didn't know). My macarons taste delish, but there was so much inconsistency in the final result - some had feet, some didn't, some cracked, some didn't, some was hollow, some wasn't. And these were all in the same baking tray!

Filled with pistachio ganache.

Smooth top, but inconsistent feet and cracks.

Also - two trays were baked at 150deg C and the two other trays were baked at 140deg C. 150deg C trays had more shells with feet but were browner and 140deg C were entirely footless but retained better colour. Also baking the macarons two trays at a time in my oven will yield different results depending on whether it's on top or bottom - top tray will be browner and bottom tray will be footless, which suggests to me that the temperature control is pretty rubbish in my oven. To get any consistency in the future, I'll have to do one tray of macarons at a time.

So on to my second attempt, which was on Thursday. I rolled up my sleeves to brave the challenge again. This time, the weather was horrible. Rain, cold, gloomy and the sun never showed his face the whole day, the lazy shite. Definitely not macaron-making weather.

If you weren't following Stella's instructions, which tells you to sod the weather (I'm paraphrasing here).

So there I was, standing barefoot in my freezing cold kitchen whipping up some meringue from unaged egg whites. How dedicated am I? I proceed to dump the almond mix into the meringue and folded it in - this time, I incorporated it just enough that it didn't look dry. I know when I looked at it that I probably undermixed it this time, but better to undermix than to overmix. And I was a bit paranoid at this stage, you understand.

After piping the mixture onto the baking paper (I found some in the end!) and giving the first tray a good whack on the countertop, I allowed them piped macarons to rest for 15 minutes. Then I baked them at 148deg C for 14-15 minutes in the middle of my conventional oven which hasn't been calibrated ever in the past five years.

Even colour, but lumpy top and cracked shells.

What?? *tearful* After all that?

For the second tray of the same batter, I whacked, rested, double-trayed and baked at 148deg C for 14-15 minutes.

No cracks, baby! :)

Voila! Feet and no cracks and no hollowed shells!

It was a proud moment. I was so happy I could've danced a jig. Except, of course, I don't jig and if I did, I would've slipped on the kitchen tiles and killed myself - I am that much of a klutz.

The only thing wrong with my second attempt was the fact that the macaron shells did not have a smooth top due to undermixing before piping. But this is entirely aesthetic (still very nommy!) and I know how to combat it, so it's fine.

Macaron attempt #2: Final result.

Roll on third attempt. Will try another flavour. I'm actually quite excited about what I can create now! :)

Review: The Time of My Life

The Time of My Life by Cecelia Ahern

My rating: 1 of 5 stars



I struggled through this book from the beginning. It's not your usual fun chick-lit, which I'm disappointed about. I want a chick-lit that makes me laugh, giggle, swoon, and giggle some more. With such a chick-lit-y cover in swirly gold writing, what's to say it doesn't contain excitement and fun?

But alas! I should have remembered the adage "Do not judge a book by its cover." I really shouldn't have. Despite its colourful front cover full of promises, this book makes me wonder when it will end because it's just so boring.

It's about a girl, Lucy, who is very messed up and in a deep rut in her life due to several little-turned-big lies she told starting 2 years 11 months and so-many days ago. Now, I can see how that can happen, and the whole book reads like self-help for Lucy, courtesy of her Life (yes, capital L), in the form if Cosmo (who I imagine looks like a door-to-door salesman).

Unfortunately this is a long, dreary path to plough through and nothing exciting really happens. It is an original plot, if nothing else, and Life being a solid person who can kick you in the ass (metaphorically) is an interesting spin on things. If this is your thing, you might like it. But... it's not my cup of tea. And I don't like Lucy, I really wanted to give her a huge slap through most of the book. I bet her Life wanted to give her a huge slap too.

The ending saved it a little, I did warm up a little bit to a Lucy who has finally, FINALLY decided to grow up, but too little too late. Dragging myself though boring 98% of the book just for the last semi-decent 2% doesn't do it for me.



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Review: Wintergirls

Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson

My rating: 2 of 5 stars



This did not do it for me. The writing style is distracting, and the character portrayal of Lia does not encourage any empathy or sympathy. I simply did not care about Lia whether she lived or died. Lia knows she has a problem. Lia doesn't want to get better. Lia blames everyone else for her problem, her parents, the divorce, Cassie, etc. Lia actively lies and cheats and manipulate people for her own ends. Lia is selfish and spoilt. Lia is a cry for help because she doesn't really want to die, she just want to see if anyone notices her if she hurt herself enough. But she doesn't see that people DID notice, and people DID want to help, but she's in too deep to get herself out again. So she aggressively fights everyone else in order to STAY ill. She WANTS to be ill 98% of the book.

I feel if a book is written in a first-person POV, we shouldn't be left feeling that Lia is selfish, spoilt, manipulative and unreasonable because Lia won't see herself that way. It needs to be written in Lia's voice and Lia's reasonings, but I just don't get that feeling. I didn't get to know Lia. I didn't know how she thought. It was all very superficial. The author did not step into Lia's shoes - she simply wrote a fiction about ED as an outsider, with a pinch of judgemental lightly sprinkled through in the book, whilst pretending it's a first-person POV. It probably would've worked better if the author had written a fiction about a parent dealing with a child with an ED.

Her sister Emma, however, is very loveable, as little as we read of her.

I'm not attacking ED in general, it is a real problem, I just did not care much for the book and how it was written. Portia de Rossi's book on her battle with anorexia, Unbearable Lightness, reads much better, feels real (probably because it IS real), and I could actually sympathise with her. She made one understand the mindset of a person suffering from, and battling with an ED.



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Heart.

Early Christmas present. :)

Review: A Discovery of Witches

A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness

My rating: 2 of 5 stars



The book started out really slow for me and didn't really draw me in until around 40% into the book. Up until then, I was wondering what the fuss was all about.

I really didn't want to compare this book to Twilight, but I can't help it when throughout the whole reading of the book, Twilight keeps flashing through my brain. It's better than Twilight, but that's not saying much since I didn't like Twilight.

I love how this book has explored more into the history and lore and I wish there is a bit more of that. But again, there's too much similarities to Twilight on the romance department that I had to make myself keep reading and not lose faith (or upchuck my dinner). It's a good thing that the main character Diana, whilst a bit stupid at times, is not as depressing to read about as Bella. And Matthew is very much more interesting than Edward. The characters in A Discovery of Witches is better drawn out than Twilight, the plot is better, however being better than a terrible book doesn't make it great.

What I cannot stand though is how Diana, despite all her "I can protect myself" or "I can do it myself" so-called feminism ended up as a damsel-in-distress anyway 80% of the book, who turns into a shivery mess when her vampire boyfriend/husband is not about. I feel as though I've been missold a strong character. The romance is predictable from the start and didn't get anymore interesting at the book went on.

I might be suffering from Twilight PTSD and in need to join a help group before I read another vampire novel, but regrettably I didn't enjoy this book as much as I thought I would. Two stars because I really did like the history and lore bits.

I may read the second book (as I understand this is part of a trilogy) if it's told from Matthew's perspective, because it would be interesting to see what he feels revisiting an era he has lived through before and what he will do differently compared to the younger Matthew.



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Too young.

Girls where I'm from are raised with one idea - get married and have babies. Get married early otherwise you'll be an old maid nobody wants. Have babies as soon as possible so you have someone to care for you when you're elderly.

Unfortunately for some of those who had taken those teachings to heart, it hadn't worked out. Because... let's face it, we're rubbish at making decisions on who we want to spend the rest of our lives with at 18. But it's not uncommon for girls from the little town I call home to be married straight out of secondary school and popping out their 2nd or 3rd child before their 21st birthday. At 18, girls and boys are too rash, still governed by hormones, lust and fantasies.

I remember the days in school when girls would plan when they aim to get married by and how many children they wanted. They even devised ways to "foretell" such dates. Harmless fun, probably, and one I did not partake in because I didn't believe I would ever get married (I couldn't stand the boys we went to school with... too boisterous, too loud, too obnoxious, as is common for teenage boys, and this is on top of the fact I didn't trust men). I read too many foreign books, interacted too frequently on the Internet, and I didn't follow local conventions. I constantly rebel against what was expected of me. And as a result, I was probably an outcast in school. I didn't notice much - I was too busy with my nose in a book or computer.

I am glad of it now.

Do you really know what you want from the rest of your life at 18? You haven't even discovered your full potential. You are going to undergo huge changes in the next few years of your life as you step into adulthood and find your place in society. You will learn a lot of new things about yourself. How will you know your love interest at age 18 will still fit into your life when you're "grown-up"? You don't even know yourself.

There are friends who are unmarried, who feels like they're left behind. But why? If it's not the right time, it's not. If it's not the right person, it's even more so you shouldn't rush into it. Because some people have, and some people are currently living to regret it. I am thoroughly sad to hear two of my close friends are having marital problems, and they feel it's due to their marrying too soon, too young, at an age when all they cared about was how "sexy" their partner is. And after a bit of growing up and maturing, they find themselves different persons wanting different things, and their partners no longer the match made in heaven they thought they were. And at age 27, they're much too old for angst and much too young to be growing bitter. If the average life expectancy is 75, that's potentially 48 years of unhappiness due to one mistake.

I'm 27, and by the time I get married (if it happens as currently planned) I will be 28. This is "old maid" category not too long ago, but SATC may have changed this perception. Even at 27 going on 28, I don't know if I'm making the right choice, this may blow up in my face altogether, but I sure am at a much better place and mindset to make that decision than I was 10 years ago.

I hope everyone will educate their children that deciding on your life partner takes time and a certain level of maturity, and even if you never find a suitable partner, it's perfectly fine and normal to be happy single. Tell them not to believe in this "other half" nonsense, a partner in your life is to enrich your life, not complete it for you. You should be complete already.

Don't mind me if I'm sounding preachy - lately all I seem to hear of is marriages growing sour and breaking up from all over the globe. *sigh*

Long update of random stuff since February.

It's been forever since I last posted. Gone are the days where I was actually committed enough to online blogging/journalling I would write everyday. Oh well.

Life hasn't been that interesting. I work most days and I sleep most days. And last I wrote, I wrote on the importance of service, and it just so happens that yesterday, I had another gentleman who insisted on personally giving me a box of chocolates. Which is really sweet. I also had the experience of a gentleman patient of mine who wanted to give me a tip (unfortunately, we cannot carry money on us at work, and it seems a bit strange to tip your optometrist, surely?).

Percy getting first dibs on the chocolates.

No, of course he didn't really eat any. I'm not that terrible a cat owner.

Speaking of the ginger monster, he has grown a lot since I last posted photos on him here. This is how he looked like at 11 weeks, 6 days after we got him:

And this is 13 days ago:

Percy at 13 months old.

He has somehow grown more ginger and his body stripes are less prominent now, so it just looks like he's orange all over with four white socks, a white belly and a stripey bit at the end of his tail. I've moved him from generic Whiskas to high-meat grain-free Swedish cat food. He's still a cheeky sod, attacks ankles and feet at will, bashes against the living room door every morning demanding to be let upstairs (he much prefers sleeping on our bed since we got our new bed). He has finally learnt to brake at the bottom of the stairs before crashing headlong into the front door and his 30 minutes of madness is less often now. But Boy is convinced the cat has something against him. :( Percy is the best Christmas present I ever received, and I hope I never have to give him away. He hangs around with me and keep me from feeling lonely when Boy isn't around (and Boy will be away fairly regularly due to training now). I don't know if he behaves more when I'm around or I'm just forgiving to a fault when he's got such a cute face. Both, perhaps.

I'm trying to train him, and so far he always sits when the treat bag comes out. However, being the impatient sod that he is, if you don't hurry up and give him a treat for sitting nicely, he'll hurry you up by patting your hand. I did get to the stage where he will jump onto any surface when I pat it twice and he gets a treat, but then I took a break from giving treats and made Boy the King of Treats in order to make the two of them get on better, so I don't know where that training has gone.

I know, cat, training? Percy's really a dog in a cat-suit. He plays fetch and he waits by the door when we get home from work. He specifically recognises our car pulling up. He also puts on his agressive stance when someone (us, usually) enters the house and he wasn't expecting it (because we hadn't taken the car, or we arrived home not at our usual time) and we laugh and call him a Guard Kitty.

Anyway. Enough about the cat. What's happened since February?

We had our 4th anniversary of being together in April. Boy got me the Swarovski Radiance ring from a new jewellers that recently opened on High Street. It's sterling silver and crystal, and Brother #2 thinks it's prettier than the diamond and white gold ring I got for the first Christmas Boy and I were together. Roffle.

Swarovski Radiance Ring.

Boy got a new job in June. I don't know if he likes it or not, I think some days he does and some days he's stressed out. I feel a bit guilty when he's stressed out because it's partially my fault he got a new job in the first place, mainly because I felt he was getting used at his old workplace who weren't giving him that many hours or that much pay to be worth staying on, and when he does work his arse off, they just verbally whip him harder anyway and expect him to do the job of five people. I didn't appreciate the managers swearing at the staff, and at the rate he was earning his wages, he could just about cover his expenses and not half the house bills as we agreed on when we first purchased the house. And it must be bad if he wakes up everyday thinking he doesn't want to go to work.

So here we are. New job. More hours. More pay. Less running around ragged. More praise and recognition for performing well. More chances of training and advancement. But a very, very different environment to play in, a job in which Boy didn't know much about when he first started.

I hope after he stuck it out for a year, he can consider again whether the industry is suitable for him or not, and whether he is going to risk more student debt and getting a degree in the field.

We went to Malaysia to visit my family at the end of June, and during the visit, Brother #2 asked the question of when Boy and I are getting married. Since we are now getting asked from both sides of the family (only 3 years after our engagement), I figured we may as well set a date or we'll never do it. So now it's set for 28th July 2012, and I have to get busy sorting things out. I still don't know if there is a Malaysia leg or not, and here's why.

Mum was diagnosed with breast cancer shortly after I returned to the UK. She was going to be my organiser mainly because it's difficult to organise a wedding banquet when I'm physically on the other side of the world. Since she will be undergoing various treatments and therapies, she doesn't think she'll be up to the task of organising a wedding (on top of her full-time job), which is fair enough. Health is more important.

On an even sadder note, both my and Boy's grandmothers passed away, his before our trip and mine after our trip. My aunt Lily (who was the kind lady who put me up in Singapore for 10 days when I visited so many years ago) also passed away due to complications from surgery days before my grandmother did. Dad had quite a few blows at him lately, as within one month, he lost his mother, his older sister and then he heard the news that his wife had breast cancer.

All these happenings really indicate something that people have always known but have always taken life for granted, and that is Life is Short. It really is.

Onto more superficial stuff, Boy and I both got ourselves new phones of the same ilk, the Samsung Galaxy S2, which we love. He likes the fact that he can read the news, email and Facebook on his phone, and mine is all that plus I adore the 8MP camera. Mine is courtesy of Brother #2 who kindly donated monies towards the cost of the phone and plan for my 27th birthday (I turned 27 on the 27th! Of June, obviously, since we're talking about the past).

Also for my birthday, Boy bought me a necklace/pendent/earstuds combo on the flight back to the UK.

Jadeite cat necklace.

Isn't it so cute? :D The photo turned out better than I thought since it was actually taken with the Blackberry Curve 8900 days before it got decommissioned for the swanky new Samsung. Who'da thunk that Blackberry in macro mode actually have a half-decent ability to photograph jewelry? I'm genuinely surprised.

The pendent is bigger than I thought (usually not a bad thing when it comes to jewelry), so I'm not sure if I can get away with wearing that at work. But it's definitely one of the cutest piece of jewelry I own. When I was a child, green was my favourite colour and I had to have green everything from dresses to drinking straws. Sometimes I still find myself pulled towards green. And kittehs! Who doesn't like kittehs? :P

I also finally caved on and started a collection of Pandora charms and beads. John Greed (two doors away from my workplace) had a promotion on 31st August (Malaysia's National Day!) where if you spent a certain amount, they throw in the £60 silver bracelet on for you free of charge. So guess what I did?

Yep.

I couldn't resist since I've always wanted those Pandora charms but couldn't really justify the cost of £60 for a silver bracelet. Sterling silver and gold with black onyx. I fell in love with the design when I was in there looking at the beads. Some of them look really nice, others a bit cheap, but that particular bead is so pretty!

I told Boy that I'm making his job of buying presents easier, because apparently I'm difficult to shop for. :P And magically, now he can just get Pandora beads or charms to go on my bracelet!

Anyway, it's almost 2am and I have work in 7 hours. And in less than 48 hours, I'll be in Darlington doing some Maid-of-Honour-y duties for MJ's wedding this Saturday. I've got to go to bed.

Just to end this on a bright burn-your-retinas-out note...