Julia's 100th Birthday Magic Macs

“...nothing is too much trouble if it turns out the way it should.”
― Julia Child, My Life in France
 

Great Julia's Ghost blessed me this morning.  I made my 5th attempt macaron batch on Monday evening, wanting to somehow succeed for Julia Child's centennial birthday. 

Because she reinvented herself, pushed herself, persevered with determination.  When someone said no, she said something like, "Oh hell, YES!"  I tried again.  New recipe.  Subtle changes to technique.  A wish and a prayer.

On Monday evening, I exhaled, and adopted Julia's "in cooking, you have to have a what the hell attitude".  What was the worst that could happen?  They'd be hollow?  Pfffbbt.  So?

Less whipping.  Lighter Meringue.

Careful, "Comma" Piped Circles.

Rapped Pans, Rested Macs

Tended In The Oven Like Newborn Babies With Cute Feet

I let them cool completely, and with great hope, carefully sliced through one pale Tiffany blue macaron.

IT WAS HOLLOW.

I packaged them up unfilled & put them in the fridge.  I almost cried.  I went to bed.

Tuesday.

Being totally honest here.  I messaged a local pastry chef who specializes in Macs and begged her to help me.  She offered a few suggestions in response, I considered.

Remembering Julia's "what the hell" attitude, I grabbed a jar of lemon curd and filled the macs, returning them to the fridge.  Either I'd find someone to eat yet another batch of hollow macs, or I'd sit on the couch on Julia's birthday Wednesday, alone, and eat the whole batch myself, sobbing while watching Julie & Julia on DVD.  Either way...

Very. Early. Wednesday.

I got up before anyone else, sun coming up.  I pulled the box of macs from the fridge and set them on the counter.  I showered, opened up the house to delicate fog chased by glowing sunbeams.  "Happy Birthday, Julia!"   I thought in my head. 

I grabbed a macaron and went to the front door to enjoy the quiet and sunshine.  Dust motes danced.

I bit into the mac and THERE WAS RESISTANCE.

After producing at least 125 hollow macarons, this was different.

Heaven help me, but Julia's birthday gift to me - the lesson - so appropos. 

MATURATION.

Twenty four hours in the fridge sandwiched with lemony curdiness and a return to the world of room temperature had transformed my hollows into something so much closer to correct...something passable, something miraculous:

Perfect?  Nope.  But LIGHT YEARS closer!

I admit, I have filled hollow macs before and this has not happened in the past.  They stayed hollow and were brittle at first bite.  Macawrongs.

Not. On. Julia's. Birthday. Thank. You. Very. Much.

Magic?  Faith?  One hundred years of Julia Child's presence and influence upon cooks, bakers, and foodies everywhere?  We'll never know.

My entire body trembles with excitement typing this post.  If nothing else, I said, "what the hell" and tried again.  I held back the tears and didn't make excuses or explain away my failure.
 I went forward anyway.

Happy 100th Birthday, Julia Child!
Thank You!