Secrets of Macarons by Jose Marechal [online pdf books]


  • Full Title : Secrets of Macarons
  • Autor: Jose Marechal
  • Print Length: 140 pages
  • Publisher: Murdoch Books
  • Publication Date: June 1, 2012
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 1742661289
  • ISBN-13: 978-1742661285
  • Download File Format: azw3

>>>Download<<<

Now a worldwide symbol of sweet indulgence, macarons seduce the senses with their delicate crunch and velvet filling.

In this book, French chef Jose Marechal discloses the secrets of macarons, including the tips and techniques required to make these little treats. This book equips the reader with the skills to master nine classic flavors, and create their own signature macarons.

 

About the Author

José Maréchal is a French pâtissier who runs Café Noir in Paris and the author of Irresistible Macaroons.

>>>Download<<<

Keywords

malpua, baking cookies, wine of the month, caffe caffe, lipton tea, drinking juice, best black tea, chinese carryout, simple pancake recipe, best smoothie recipes, perfect pancake recipe, what are cookies in browser, easy recipes, portable bbq, what is ice cream made of, types of chinese noodles, mocktail recipes, oatmeal raisin cookies, light beer, caribou coffee,
pped money in the box (I never touched it) I yelled the order back into the apartment—like at your favorite greasy-spoon diner. Our friends came out to support us (we knew we could guilt them all into at least one meal). But then, surprisingly they liked it! In fact, they loved it. And those friends brought friends, and friends of their friends brought more friends.

The party grew so much that we added a Wednesday “dinner service.” Yelp reviews began to pop up, which brought in even more people. Our patrons were pretty random, but my favorite group was the game developers, dominated by my small cadre of friends who had graduated from Carnegie Mellon. If anyone was the catalyst for our explosion, it was them. Suddenly, our apartment became the No. 1 Asian fusion “restaurant” listing in all of LA on Yelp.

Then, LA Weekly found us, which brought us patrons from San Francisco and New York City. As we began to receive more press, we got even bigger—big enough that the health department found us.

But even when the health department thought they had us, I was already in negotiations to take Starry Kitchen into a real establishment with proper permits. I offered myself to become their poster child—Illegal Restaurant Goes Legit—but they didn’t care and gave us a verbal slap-on-the-wrist warning to shut down instead. (We didn’t.)

For the next three months, we operated Starry Kitchen in “black-ops mode” behind closed doors until we finally locked down a former sushi joint in downtown LA where we could finally serve lunch to hungry workers out in the open as a regular . . . restaurant! On our last night in our apartment, we invited everyone, and 130+ people came into our home for our most popular dish, our infamous Crispy Tofu Balls. Everyone wished us farewell from the underground into the world of legitimacy.

It’s been over seven years since we began Starry Kitchen in our apartment. But it feels like we’ve been in this business our entire lives. It’s amazing to think how far we’ve come from turning an illegal dinner party into a full-blown lunch restaurant, closing that restaurant down, then reinventing ourselves three times, not including the numerous side “quest” projects we blindly try because I guess I get bored. Rather than looking for new jobs or staying put in the ones that didn’t satisfy us, which we probably should have done, we walked down the road less traveled—a torturously unbeaten path paved with metal-screw-made salads, working in two inches of sludgy water, crab-claw-cut cuticles, and, most consistently, being broke through the process. Not just the path of owning a restaurant, but the pursuit of a concept and idea so deceptively simple I now understand why most people are reticent to admit it’s even possible—to do what you love and to make a living doing what you love.

It still surprises me when people tell me how much the Starry Kitchen story resonates with them—kind of like how the original popularity of our underground restaurant initially surprised me. I understood that our friends and neighbors would love the idea and the food, but the fact that it attracted strangers from all over the country amazes me to this day. But the older and wiser I get, the more I understand why our story speaks to so many people. It speaks to people because it’s a great representation of the proud American tradition of not giving a fuck and going balls-out.

What follows is the true story of Starry Kitchen, all of our illegal and extracurricular culinary adventures that inspire the food we make—told through anecdotes and tall tales—and chock-full of drool-inducing recipes with as much food porn as these pages can hold, spanning the Asian food spectrum (and some not-so-Asian dishes because we’re American, too, dammit!). Every recipe has a story, particularly for us. Stories about how we spawned a restaurant, a brand, and a stream of pop-ups and brick-and-mortar successes and (many) failures that wouldn’t exist without the recipes that earned us coverage in the New York Times, the New Yorker, Food & Wine, NPR, Vice’s Munchies, the Cooking Channel, and more.

They are a celebration of our food, our culture, and our personality, and a reflection of how mind-blowingly more delicious food simply is once you learn the context and soul behind it. When we ran Starry Kitchen out of our apartment, my job was the front of house, host, storyteller. While Thi cooked, I entertained guests with the story of all the events of Starry Kitchen’s evolution and all of the events that transpired as we were living it, and as we (scarily) continue to live it now, through the inspiration, harrowing conflicts, tremendous triumphs, and all the miraculous support we don’t deserve and have had. We’re living the next unknown chapter of our lives.

THE RESTAURANT IN APARTMENT NO. 205

Photo by Nguyen Tran

ONE MONTH INTO OUR UNDERGROUND LUNCH OPERATION OUT OF OUR APARTMENT, THI AND I WERE GETTING SO BUSY WE EXPANDED OUR “SERVICE” FROM SUNDAY LUNCH TO INCLUDE WEDNESDAY DINNERS. OUR FRIEND ALEX OW, FORMER EXECUTIVE CHEF OF THE BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL, GAVE US THE MOST OBSERVANT PIECE OF ADVICE THAT REALLY RANG TRUE FOR ALL THE ILLEGAL+UNDERGROUND DAYS: “YOU’RE GOING TO RUN OUT OF ROOM FAST.” AND WE DID; WE COULD HANDLE ONLY TWO MEALS A WEEK. BUT IT WAS ALSO THE VOLUME. SOMETIMES IT WAS MANIC—FOR A LITTLE APARTMENT RESTAURANT OR A NORMAL SMALL RESTAURANT. WE WERE FLOODED WITH PEOPLE WHO WANTED TO BE PART OF OUR LITTLE STORY.

We built up our “regulars.” Which was great, but the newcomers, who always arrived after the regulars, sometimes got screwed because we’d run out of food. People would tell us, “That’s a good problem to have,” but by then people’s enthusiastic expectations were starting to teeter into soul-crushing disappointment. It’s horrible to be on the “piss-ee” side when people are . . . pissed.

So we started instituting a reservation system of sorts. We would stage people out in increments of fifteen minutes over the course of three hours, taking their orders and quantities beforehand, which allowed us to keep up a consistent output. At times, we would have between fifty and seventy preorders before we even “opened” our doors. None of this was expected.

As we continued to receive more and more press, more and more people showed up, turning into enough press and people to attract the attention of the health department. One afternoon, I came home to find an inspector’s business card waiting for me on our welcome mat. This was the moment I had been waiting for. This is how I knew we had made it. And even if money wasn’t exploding from our couches and mattresses yet, it was the moment that we were going to exploit to the motherfucking fullest.

When I called the health department, the first thing the woman on the phone asked me was whether we had a kitchen at our “establishment,” and I was like, “Yeah, it’s an apartment.” And then she got to the real point (of attack) and accused me of running an illegal operation out of our apartment. That’s when I got philosophical on her ass and asked her what the difference was between having a dinner party and running a restaurant. My contention was that this happened to be a dinner party of friends who also brought more friends, and we asked people to make donations to cover our costs.

Two health department agents showed up, flashing their badges.

“I don’t think you want us to come in . . .”

Knowing that the health department wouldn’t take this conversation lightly, I blasted out to our mailing list of about six hundred that we were finally on the department’s radar. My message also included strict instructions on what to do if health department officials showed up during one of our services. The basic plan involved me swinging the front door wide open and everyone yelling out in unison, “Hello FRIENDS!” because that’s what you do when you’re hosting a “dinner party.”

On the first night right after I called and spoke to the health department, while Thi and I were waiting for the guests to arrive, two health department agents showed up, flashing their badges. “I don’t think you want us to come in,” one said when I invited them into our empty apartment. I graciously began whittling them away with my obnoxious brand of kindness: “No problem, we’re hosting a dinner party and would love for you guys to join us.” And then, our game of Keyser Söze–like cat and mouse began.

The two agents started interrogating me, and I asked whether they wanted anything to eat. They declined, but I could see the younger of the two crack a slight smile—he was more interested and hungry than he knew. I can’t blame the guy, especially with the scent of kalbi-chim (Korean braised beef short ribs) filling the air with all its savory sweetness, its unadulterated Korean amazingness. Like Lynda Carter / Wonder Woman deflecting bullets with her wristbands, however, these guys ignored my invitation to dine and continued their interrogation.

“You’re running an illegal operation,” one of them said.

“What?” I replied. “I never thought about it like that. Interesting!”

“You’re taking money for your food.”

“We’re taking donations,” I corrected them. This was 100 percent true. I always put out a donation box on the opposite end of the apartment, far away from me and Thi. We never touched it. People put in however much they wanted or didn’t want to put in. Money never exchanged hands.

Photo by Nguyen Tran

“Sir, you’re operating a business.”

“No, sir, I’m not. I’m running a dinner party that everyone’s invited to. If I were running a business, I would have the right to refuse anyone’s business. If it’s a donation-based effort, it’s the exact opposite. Anyone, and I mean ANYONE, is allowed to take our offerings with or without offering anything in return.”

The older agent, who was clearly wiser than his younger partner, asked, “So ANYONE can come in?”

“Yes?” I answered, shrugging my shoulders in what I hoped he took as a sign of youthful ignorance rather than a tacit admission of guilt, which I’m pretty sure it was.

“You have signage on the street.”

“No, we don’t. You’re making that up.”

Why on earth would I want to advertise our illegal operation with signage? The entire appeal of Starry Kitchen, other than the food, of course, was the fact that it was hard to find, that it was underground.

The conversation went back and forth like this for a while. In the meantime, Thi was moving in and out of the kitchen, steaming. She was LIVID. I mean, the air in the room changed. It was like one of those Dragon Ball Z moments where her anger ignited the air around us, and you could feel the hatred from across continents, it was so strong. I think I was more scared of her than of the health department guys. Yeah, she was scary!

The agents would present a new argument, and I’d give them my weasel way out of that angle until . . . whoa ho HO, UNTIL they dropped a pretty clever bomb on me that completely caught me by surprise.

When the older agent asked how I invited people over, I told them it was just word of mouth . . . and then . . . and THEN they presented me with a printout of my ENTIRE TWITTER FEED, which advertised the time and place of ALL of our “services!” (High-five and well-played, health department!) I did NOT expect that one, ESPECIALLY because I knew everything I was tweeting. These tweets were public calls to anyone listening, retweeting, and the like to come on over . . . and partake in the illegalness that was our humble little . . . illegal+underground restaurant.

Photo by Nguyen Tran

Thi put up her apron, assumed a mean resting bitch face, walked THROUGH us, and sat on the couch in the living room, arms crossed, staring straight ahead at nothingness and just looking PISSED! I carried along as if we were just having another lovers’ quarrel . . . oh, to be in LOVE!

When the agents continued to press me about my tweets, I did what I saw my cute female friends do when politely declining guys’ advances but getting out of them as many drinks as they could. I smugly chuckled and gave an “Oh YOU!” sigh and dismissed this printout and claim that Twitter was how I communicated with my “friends.”

Amazingly, during this thirty- to forty-five-minute “conversation,” not one “dinner party guest” showed up. Normally, we’d be packed to the gills at that point, full of orders, full of life, full of youthful zest for illegal and tasty Asian street food tacos out of our home. Instead, we were (luckily) swallowed in uninterrupted silence.

After all this, and while trying to keep a big smile on my face, quietly hoping the agents would cuff me and carry me away like some kind of culinary Che Guevara, “¡Viva Starry Kitchen!” (for the sheer drama and hilarity of it all!), they merely told me not to do it anymore, and if they got any more calls, they’d take me to court . . . HEALTH DEPARTMENT COURT! (I didn’t know that was a thing, either, if you’re thinking that same thing.)

They gave me their cards, walked out, and . . . that was it! We were done in the principal’s office of food service life, and we got away with it! And not ten minutes later a wave of illegal+underground regulars came in, and of course I had to share with them the adrenaline rush of a story of what had just happened. People were amazed and in disbelief we just got away with it. It was like the moment in Star Wars: A New Hope at the end where they celebrate together, with awards, knowing that they MIGHT have a chance against the Evil Empire. “We did it!” All of us, celebrating together, over kalbi-chim, us and our unsuspecting partners, happily together in our ruse, too.

You see, I had agreed with the health department to not do it again. And knowing that the health department was smart enough to scour my social media, I had to sell the drama that we were shutting Starry Kitchen down . . . forever. We posted a goodbye blog thanking everyone, very convincingly ending Starry Kitchen. But after that, I sent a letter to everyone on the private email list telling them that we weren’t closing after all. We were just going completely black ops from here on out. Everyone was game, and I think this even more clandestine arrangement made it all even more fun and surprisingly . . . word still spread and we got bigger.

The best were emails from people who had just discovered us, saw all our postings that we were closed, and wished us well. I would reply, “What if I told you we weren’t actually gone at all,” which got us the best responses, and our fandom grew through this, the first Starry Kitchen historic example of how, when we gave up, we never truly gave up. But even with the 2009 Battle of the Health Department settled in Starry Kitchen’s favor, we were not prepared for the ultimate war of survival as we continued to relive this crazy variably vicious cycle over and over again.

RECIPE NOTES

IN ADDITION TO REGULAR PORTIONS, WE DECIDED TO GIVE YOU OUR ILLEGAL+UNDERGROUND MEASUREMENTS TOO. IF YOU WANT TO HOST A BIG PARTY, START YOUR OWN UNDERGROUND CLUB, SEE WHAT ALL THE FUSS IS ABOUT, HAVE AT IT! HERE’S A QUICK NOTE ABOUT THOSE MEASUREMENTS:

“FUN SIZE” (AKA “NORMAL” PORTIONS): these singular dishes will feed about 2 to 4 people. But, because most of the dishes should be served family style, even these Fun Size portions will most likely satisfy more people. To keep it simple, make 1 dish less than the total number of guests. If you’re cooking for 4 people, for instance, make at least 3 dishes and you should be good to go!

“BALLS OUT” (AKA ILLEGAL+UNDERGROUND PORTIONS): if you want to start your own illegal+underground restaurant, why guess how much to make when we’ve already done it. Most recipes have been multiplied to make 15x to 20x more dishes, which can accommodate about 40 to 80 guests, depending on the dishes. Happy serving illegally+underground (and please invite us!).

BASIC INGREDIENTS AND STARRY KITCHEN RECOMMENDATIONS

ASIAN LIGHT BEER: Sapporo Light Beer, Kirin Ichiban, or Koshihikari Echigo, an awesome Japanese craft beer. Play around, get drunk, have fun!

CHICKEN BOUILLON: Lee Kum Kee brand, my wife swears by them.

CHINESE COOKING WINE: shao shing aka xiao xing aka hua dao.

COCO RICO BRAND SODA: a Puerto Rican brand coconut-flavored soda commonly carried in Asian grocery stores. It is kind of our secret ingredient to flavor things with just a hint of coconut but not that full coconut taste. I didn’t even know it wasn’t Asian until I wrote this book!

COCONUT CREAM: The Indonesian Kara brand is amazing; it will make any dish better.

COOKING OIL: Cottonseed oil, most commonly used to fry beignets, is pretty flavorless and not too oily. Because it isn’t always readily available for purchase, use whatever brand you can find.

DISTILLED WHITE VINEGAR: All white vinegar from here on out is referring to 5 percent aka 50 grain. Be careful of this one characteristic. 10 percent aka 100 grain is very common, and has exactly twice the acidity and does change the flavor and outcome of what you’re making . . . I mean, if you care

FISH SAUCE: Super tasty Red Boat Fish Sauce is honestly the best-tasting fish sauce on the market. For economic reasons, though, we use Three Crabs Fish Sauce for volume.

LIGHT SOY SAUCE: Kikkoman or Lee Kum Kee brand.

LIME JUICE AND LEMON JUICE: Juice from fresh limes and lemons is SOOOO much better! If you don’t have them, for the best flavor profile, use juices “not from concentrate.”

MUSHROOM BOUILLON: Totole is our brand of choice. The bottle has a cute harmless anime mushroom on the front.

PERSIAN CUCUMBERS: not all cucumbers are created equal. Persian cucumbers, which are smaller than their pickling, hot-house cousins, are also less watery. They have a great crunch and are not overwhelmingly cucumber-y. SO DAMN GOOD!

RICE VINEGAR: Marukan brand.

SAKE: Any cheap sake or cooking sake will do, but honestly, the more expensive it is, the better it will taste . . . and the drunker you’ll probably get, too, since it’s so good on its own.

SALT: Starry Kitchen don’t fuck with table salt. All recipes call for kosher salt.

YOUNG CHINESE MUSTARD GREENS: aka young gai choi, these greens are best when they’re young. Slightly more bitter than normal mustard greens.

BRAISED AND CARAMELIZED VIETNAMESE COCO PORK BELLY (AKA THIT KHO)

The dish that started it all for Starry Kitchen, and THE dish every Vietnamese kid and adult in the world knows. It’s incredibly savory good, and super homey.

2–4 SERVINGS

2 tablespoons minced shallots

3 whole Thai chilies, chopped

1½ pounds pork belly, cut into 1-inch cubes

2 tablespoons fish sauce

2 tablespoons Caramel Sauce

1¾ cups Coco Rico brand soda

6 soft-boiled eggs

Scallions, chopped, for garnish

BALLS OUT

40–80 SERVINGS

2½ cups minced shallots

60 Thai chilies, chopped

30 pounds pork belly, cut into 1-inch cubes

2½ cups fish sauce

2½ cups Caramel Sauce

8¾ cups Coco Rico brand soda

120 soft-boiled eggs

1.In a pan/wok, sauté shallots and Thai chilies with a little bit of oil over medium heat until you get some aroma in the air. When the spice in the chilies ignites, you’ll know. (*cough* *cough*) Remove from heat and set aside in a small bowl.

2.In the same pan, add a little more oil, bring to high to medium-high heat. Sear and lightly brown pork belly pieces as evenly as possible. Be careful not to overcook or dry out the pork belly. This step is meant to just give the pork a little bit of color. Remove from heat and transfer to a pot.

3.Next, add previously sautéed shallots and Thai chilies to pork belly pot. Add fish sauce, Caramel Sauce, and Coco Rico soda. Mix and bring to a boil over high heat. Onc

[collapse]

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *