La Macaronicité 5: macawrongs and macarights, macarons day and night

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Thirty-five degrees Celcius and counting. What better way to sweat to death than whilst writing about macarons de Paris? Again.

I can’t make macarons today because the heat in the kitchen would make me droop like Safeway’s out-of-season asparagus. It’ll be 40C by lunchtime (that’s about 475F for dark-age foreigners). At least the humidity ain’t so bad.

This has been my month of the world’s most temperamental type of macaroon… La Macaronicité at Syrup & Tang, as I dubbed it, which tried to cover almost everything one might need to know without me actually excising the reader’s creative spirit. Time to squidge everything together with scrummydumtious fillings and go on a picnic.

A few others joined in the fun and folly and spoke of it to me

* Vida was brave/impatient enough to accept my challenge to try out Shannon Bennett’s recipe in his book My Vue. I didn’t think it would work (too cool, too damp) and brave Vida confirmed privately that chef Bennett’s restaurant hats (stars) ought not apply to his macaron recipe… disaster.

* Thanh of I Eat Therefore I Am was the other impatient soul who launched into the task with gusto. He tried the simple recipe (French meringue) and was disappointed, almost throwing in the towel. Then he tried the advanced recipe (Italian meringue) and his cries of joy could be heard from afar. Then he was overcome by Christmas pressures and almost had a nervous breakdown as he juggled macaron mixtures after midnight.

* Towser at Spot4Nosh emailed me and subsequently published his adventures with macarons and, teething problems aside, also produced some lovely macarons.

I hope more will take up the challenge. I know there are others in Australia who make macarons independently of my exhortations, including Ellie at Kitchenwench who has also written about them, Mellie at tummyrumbles who has also made them and Y at Lemonpi who apparently makes them in her dayjob occasionally but doesn’t actually love them in the way some fanatics (little old me) do.

In the other parts of the La Macaronicité series I’ve linked to bloggers/sites elsewhere who offer inspiration and useful information. You can surf the web and you’ll find more writings. I’ve probably missed one or two really good ones, perhaps forgotten a classic here or there, but I’ve also deliberately omitted some because they don’t acknowledge whose recipe they’re using (which I think is very bad form).

I haven’t written about chocolate macarons. I originally contemplated a special article on them but decided there wasn’t much point — although the internet shows many comments claiming chocolate macarons are the hardest to make, I simply can’t agree. I’ve had no problem making them with the Italian meringue method (just reduce the other dry ingredients slightly to compensate for the cocoa) and even the French meringue method worked well for me (and David Lebovitz has had many complements for his recipe).

One of my commenters, DC, mentioned that there are now a number of books in French about macarons (I think I saw four earlier this year in Paris), and more interestingly, he saw one addressing the issue of failure. I think we all know by now that making macarons involves a certain amount of wastage, with singed edges, soggy middles, wrinkles and more (including tears). I wrote about an alternative use at the end of the second part of La Macaronicité and look! I now have pics:

mactrifle1.JPG mactrifle2.JPG mactrifle3.JPG

mactrifle4.JPG 

This was Christmas pudding-ersatz (my mother’s kitchen is under renovation so it was a slightly alternative Christmas dinner this year). Macawrongs + port + morello cherries + cherry juice + lightly whipped cream.

Thanks to everyone for their comments and questions. Don’t hesitate to add more as time passes.

The delicate divas have left the building… (wearing sunscreen and floppy hats to ward off the sun).

Can you guess what flavour the macaron below is?

Cheers!
Duncan

You can also read La Macaronicité 1: an introduction to the macaron.
La Macaronicité 2: basic technique and simple macaron recipe.
La Macaronicité 3: the more reliable macaron recipe and a few tips.
La Macaronicité 4: fillings, flavours, frippery.

 

macspecial.JPG

Season’s greetings from Syrup & Tang to readers known and unknown (reveal yourselves!)

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I’d like to wish all of the visitors to, readers of and commenters on Syrup & Tang a wonderful, tasty Christmas. If you don’t celebrate Christmas then I hope you can reinterpret the sentiments to apply to you too! I’m a broad-minded eater;)

So, dear readers, if you haven’t already popped up in the comments somewhere previously, why not say hi and introduce yourself? (Once you’ve finished with the pork, turkey, ham, duck, goose, chook, nutroast and pudding, if you prefer!)

I’d love to know who my readers are.

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Meanwhile, I’m just popping around to my neighbours’ with loaves of bread for Christmas (and you thought it’d be macarons, didn’t you!). Slow-ferment olive and parmesan bread… They’re lucky I haven’t start chewing on the loaves already. I hope they’re all home!

Best wishes to all (and my friends too:P)
Duncan

La Macaronicité 4: fillings, flavours, frippery

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Dear meringue shell crazy people,

It’s time for fillings, flavours and frippery!

This article will be shorter than the others. I feel that the filling is where the cook has the opportunity to show their initiative and creativity and I want to communicate general principles rather than fine detail.

Fillings

There are probably five main types of filling:

  • jam (probably the original filling) — confiture
  • ganache
  • butter cream — crème au beurre
  • thickened creams
  • caramel

I won’t say anything about jam, but will comment on the other types below.

Ganache

A cream, chocolate and butter mixture, ganache can provide a strongly flavoured counter to the sweetness of the macaron shell. It can also act as a milder carrier for other flavours. White chocolate ganache is often combined with acid fruits such as berries — a nifty way of getting popular fruit flavours while countering the tang of the fruit, but can sometimes end up too sweet and cloying.

Butter cream

Simplest of all is a mock cream, made by whipping butter and adding icing sugar. Almond meal is frequently added as it improves stability and absorbs some moisture. Mock cream can sometimes be a little gritty.

More flexible than a ganache, a butter cream is a fairly neutral canvas for flavouring and colouring as you please. A basic rich butter cream (egg yolks, sugar syrup, butter) is simple but easily too rich. When cold it can be too firm for immediate eating, and when at warm room temperature it can begin to feel greasy when eating the macaron.

Another option is a lighter butter cream, where Italian meringue (yet more sugar syrup!) is added to the basic butter cream. This is a popular option amongst some bakers.

And finally, another simple butter cream: with whole eggs and sugar heated in a bain marie, beaten until thick and then with butter added. Also popular and less inclined to seem greasy.

All butter creams tend to be disappointing in a macaron which is served cold. The textures don’t match and the flavours are muted.

macarons pink and yellow
Pink and yellow shells, filled with rose and apricot butter creams.

Thickened cream preparations

Many of the classic French creams are given some structural reinforcement by adding some gelatine. Most of these (chiboust, bavaroise, etc) are suitable if prepared to a consistency which can be happily piped when cool. These thickened creams, and also standard crème pâtissière, are often used in larger macarons and macaron cakes, probably because they hold their shape better at a range of temperatures and under different loads.

Caramel

And this is where this article series sort of started! The response to my salted caramel macarons provided the impetus for a comprehensive look at macarons. I make a simple sugar-cream-butter caramel and add salt. It’s inspired by the salted butter caramel popular in the north of France (Brittany and Normandy), but rather than using salted butter, I like the sensation and variation in flavour experience created by crystals of salt.

Other caramels are fine too, of course, though the sweetness can be overdone. Flavoured caramels are probably more interesting.

macarons with caramel
Uncoloured macarons filled with salted caramel (a little too fresh and runny!).

Salted caramel

  • 50 g sugar
  • 23 g cream
  • 35 g butter, cold, in cubes

 

  1. Place one third of the sugar in a small saucepan and heat very gently. After some time it will suddenly start to melt and go brown.
  2. As soon as the sugar is liquid, add another third of the dry sugar and melt, stirring gently.
  3. Repeat with the remaining sugar.
  4. When the liquid sugar has reached a rich caramel colour (perhaps very soon after melting),add the cream in a thin stream. The caramel will bubble vigorously, so be careful.
  5. Stir and measure the temperature promptly. When the caramel reaches 108-110 C (this can happen very quickly!), remove from the heat and immediately add the butter.
  6. Stir well (or use a handmixer) until the caramel is smooth and has cooled somewhat.
  7. Refrigerate the caramel. It will firm up after an hour or two.

There are many other things you could make to fill macarons, but I’ll leave that to your imagination!

Colours and flavours

Beyond the basic creams and other fillings, it pays to think about how you can enhance the flavour sensation of these pâtisserie divas. Coarse nut pieces and other textural elements can be fun, as can an interplay between the flavour of the shell and the flavour of the cream inside. Most pâtissiers don’t play with the shells’ flavour because it makes it harder to deploy the batter for a range of macarons. I love flavouring my shells with citrus zest and then using a filling with a complementary flavour. Some of the better producers spray the inside of the shell with an aroma (such as a flower water or flavoured syrup) and then use a differently flavoured cream.

Liquid colourings are the most obvious choice for home cooks, but professional powder colourings are often used and I’ve read of some bakers using powdered fruit which is a fun idea. Whatever the colour, I feel the shell should entice. Too often when trying to not overdo it, my shells have been the faintest pastel colour, barely here or there. You need to be bolder! On the other hand, some disappointing producers go for maxi-colour, beyond bold and into lurid. If the colour evokes, say, the fruit in the filling, that’s great; if it looks like an accident with rotten raspberries or an ageing banana, well, no.

trio of flavours
Chocolate shell with chocolate-cinnamon ganache. Lemon shell with ganache. Chocolate shell with lemon-basil cream.

Part of the allure of these divas is that they’re a visual treat. They can be beautiful in their naked simplicity, or they can be a painter’s canvas.

Think about what you want to achieve. Experiment. Enjoy!

You can also read La Macaronicité 1: an introduction to the macaron.
La Macaronicité 2: basic technique and simple macaron recipe.
La Macaronicité 3: the more reliable macaron recipe and a few tips.
La Macaronicité 5: Macawrongs and macarights, macarons day and night.

– DM

La Macaronicité 3: the more reliable macaron recipe and a few tips

coloured macarons

Macaroniers, Macaronistes et Macaroneurs,

So you want to make better macarons? Welcome to the third instalment of La Macaronicité at Syrup & Tang! If you missed the introduction, click here to read it. And if you want to learn about basic technique, ingredients and method, visit the second article.

La Macaronicité: Advanced technique and knowledge

Main sections:

Ingredients
Fundamentals
Recipe B — macarons au sucre cuit
Background to my recipe

There’s a lot of information here and it’s possible that not everything applies to your kitchen or experience. I don’t know everything about them (there’s a limit to how many kilos of almond meal a poor writer can buy!). I welcome feedback about other solutions/explanations/ideas, but please don’t submit comments listing other recipes unless it contributes to a better understanding of the actual process and problems. You’re welcome to contact me directly if you prefer and I’ll incorporate helpful info into the article where appropriate.

Ingredients

To summarise the more detailed ingredient information from the previous article, the macaron batter consists of only four ingredients:

  • almond meal (ground almond) – amandes en poudre
  • pure icing sugar (confectioner’s sugar, no starch added) – sucre glace
  • egg whites, preferably old – blancs d’œufs
  • sugar – sucre

On occasion you might also see mention of cream of tartar or salt, both of which strengthen egg white foam.

The batter may be coloured (very common) and flavoured (less common, though not too difficult).

There are three types of recipe:

  1. macarons au blanc monté (1) – a simple eggwhite foam is combined with the dry ingredients; preferred in Pierre Hermé’s books
  2. macarons au blanc monté (2) – a simple French meringue is combined with the dry ingredients; in most other books, including Alain Ducasse
  3. macarons au sucre cuit – an Italian meringue is combined with the dry ingredients; preferred in most professional books

I’ll explain the third recipe type (Italian meringue) here.

The important differences in this style of macaron recipe are as follows:

Meringue: This recipe uses a so-called Italian meringue, made with a hot sugar syrup which is beaten into the whipped egg white.

meringue 'bec d'oiseau'
An Italian meringue gives this beautiful peak, called a ‘bec d’oiseau’ (bird’s beak) in French.

Mixing: As with the simpler recipe, at first the ingredients won’t mix together well. The Italian meringue is slower to pick up the dry ingredients and needs a bit more mixing to achieve a smooth batter. If you find you have lumps of powder in the batter, don’t be scared to smear the batter against the side of the bowl with the spatula. The final batter looks fluffier (some visible bubbles) than for the simple recipe. If the batter sits for any length of time the aeration becomes more apparent. That’s fine. This batter seems a little more tolerant of overmixing. This mixture dries out much more quickly than the simple one, but also remains usable for longer. Just cover the bowl with plastic film until you need it (e.g., if you’re baking multiple batches).

Crusting: I experimented with leaving some macarons to crust for an hour. The surface was actually almost hard after this time! Popped them in the oven and they rose happily, though some air bubbles made the surface irregular. The most striking difference between crusted and uncrusted macarons is that the former have a clearly defined line between the shell and the foot. On the downside, the shell was thicker than desirable. [UPDATE: after more testing, I now recommend permitting the shells to sit for half an hour or so. It helps reduce some problems if your oven has strong heat below the baking tray.]

Sugar syrup: The syrup is made by simmering off moisture until you achieve a certain sugar concentration, which is judged by its temperature. If only making a small quantity of syrup (e.g. for the recipe example quantity below), it’s best to use a small narrow saucepan or even a Turkish coffee pot.

Hot sugar syrup can cause bad burns, so be careful of splashing and don’t feel tempted to stick your finger in it! You need a digital thermometer or sugar thermometer to check the temperature. (Actually, you can check it using the old-fashioned drop test into cold water, but for that I suggest you check out one of your cookbooks — look up ‘firm ball’ stage.) Syrups harden quickly as they cool, so you need to have your equipment and ingredients ready to go.

Oven: Being slightly less touchy, this recipe doesn’t require changing temperatures and leaving the oven door ajar. You should be able to cook the shells at one temperature with the door closed. In general, you’ll lose fewer shells to burning or sticking if you use your first attempt to work out the best temperature for your oven — just cook a few macarons at a time at different temps (or trust me, LOL).

In testing, I found that at 150C the shells came off the paper beautifully, had good feet, but had air pockets. At 160C air pockets were absent, but the bottoms were just a bit sticky. At 170C the feet were more modest (still good) but the bottoms were sometimes too sticky. Permitting the shells to crust before baking gave a good rise (feet) and fairly dry bottoms, but a duller shell.


mixed or overmixed
macarons tops
macarons bottoms
This is what happens with batter at different levels of mixing when cooked at 150C.

air pockets in macarons
Experiment with temperatures: air pockets at low temperature.

Be brave and face the batter!

Recipe B
macarons au sucre cuit; (Italian meringue)

This method is rarely found on the English-speaking internet and is only mentioned in a small number of professional cookbooks. It is fairly reliable, though still requires some practice.

Decide how many eggs you want to sacrifice. Crack and separate the eggs, remembering to keep the whites and all vessels and implements scrupulously free of fat or egg yolk. You don’t need to weigh the egg whites at this point. One egg white will yield about fourteen 3-4 cm macaron shells.

It isn’t necessary to age the eggs (though probably doesn’t hurt).

Formula and method

When you’re ready to start cooking, weigh the egg whites and then scale the recipe appropriately. The formula is below.

‘eggwhite’ refers to the weight of the egg whites in grams. The righthand column provides an example calculation.

Ingredient   Amount   Example (with eggwhite=50 gm)
Almond meal 1.35 x eggwhite 1.35 x 50 = 67 gm
Icing sugar 1.35 x eggwhite 1.35 x 50 = 67 gm
Sugar 1.35 x eggwhite 1.35 x 50 = 67 gm
Water 0.33 x eggwhite 0.33 x 50 = 16 gm
Egg white 50 gm

A batter with 50 gm egg white should yield one baking tray 30 cm x 40 cm or approximately 25 shells.

Preheat your oven:
Conventional oven: centre rack, 160C. Convection oven: 140C

  1. Stack two or three heavy baking trays. Line the top tray with non-stick baking paper. If you’re well organised, mark the paper with 2 or 3 cm circles, spaced about 4 cm apart (the piped batter will spread about 1 cm).
  2. Place the sugar and water in a small saucepan and leave to stand.
  3. Divide the total egg white into two equal amounts, placing one half in a small bowl or glass and the other half in the bowl which you will use for making the meringue. It is preferable to weigh the amounts, not do it by volume or eye.
  4. Process the almond meal and icing sugar at high speed to achieve a fine powder. Sift (or whisk the powder by hand) to break up any lumps of powder and place in a large bowl.
  5. Place the saucepan for the syrup over low heat and bring to a simmer. Stir once or twice to help dissolve the sugar, but once it’s simmering you shouldn’t stir it again. As the syrup boils it will splash the sides of the pan and you should use a wet basting brush to dissolve the dried sugar so that it runs back into the syrup. Start to measure the syrup temperature after it has been simmering for a minute or two.
  6. If you are using an electric hand beater rather than a kitchen machine, beat the egg white until it makes soft peaks. If you are using a kitchen machine you can start the machine when the syrup is a few degrees below the final temperature (see below).
  7. The final temperature you want the syrup to reach is 118C (no drama if you overshoot slightly). Beat the egg whites to firm peaks just before the final temperature is attained.
  8. Set the beater/machine to slow speed and slowly pour the hot syrup into the bowl of beaten egg whites in a thin stream. The syrup may splash a little. If you are too slow to do this, the syrup might harden in the saucepan… there is always some wastage.
  9. As soon as all the syrup is in the egg whites, increase the beating speed to maximum and beat for several minutes until the meringue is just warm to the touch. If there was lots of splashing when you poured the syrup on, you can stop beating briefly at the start to scrape down the sides a bit. The final product should be a stiff, white, compact meringue with a lovely satiny consistency.
  10. Pour the unused amount of egg white (see beginning of this recipe) onto the dry ingredients. Then scoop the meringue on top of that. Mix the ingredients with a spatula using a circular motion around the bowl and under the batter. The mixing process for this recipe takes a little longer than for the simpler recipe in the previous article. You don’t need to be gentle, but the goal is to incorporate the dry ingredients quickly to avoid overmixing. It’s better to undermix than overmix. You can add colourings or flavourings during this mixing.
  11. meringue bowl of ingredients macaron batter almost ready

  12. The final batter should be the colour of pale ivory (if you haven’t coloured it) and smooth and thick but flowing (typically referred to as being ‘like magma’, but as few of us have visited an active volcano or been to the centre of the Earth…). A ribbon of batter dropped from a spoon onto the top of the remaining batter should take about 30 seconds to disappear.
  13. Dab a little batter under each corner of the baking paper on the tray to anchor it (otherwise it’ll slip).
  14. Spoon the batter into a piping bag/gun with a 8-10 mm nozzle and pipe evenly onto the baking paper. Mild peaks should settle back into the batter eventually. If they don’t disappear, tap the tray repeatedly on a table until the peaks have largely disappeared. Usually the batter will spread a little and any bumps will disappear. Sometimes the batter is quite runny and will rapidly flatten out. (It might be overmixed.) This consistency will often yield irregular shells. If the batter never stops spreading then you should probably scrape it all back into a bowl, gently add some more almond meal and try again.
  15. If you want, you can leave the piped batter to dry for anywhere between 20 mins and two hours.
  16. Place the tray in the oven. If you’re using a conventional oven, cook as normal (ie, with the door closed) for the entire time. For a convection oven, you will need to experiment a little, possibly leaving the door ajar for part of the time.
  17. At the 5 minute mark the shells should have lifted and developed ‘feet’. At the 6-7 minute mark they should be starting to colour just slightly. Rotate the baking sheet if the colouring is uneven. The outermost shells often have to be sacrificed in order for the centre ones to be cooked, but the majority should be no more than the palest cream colour. They are probably ready if a shell moves only reluctantly on its foot when you lightly nudge it with a finger.
  18. Remove from the oven and leave on the tray for a minute or two. Gently try to lift one of the outermost shells. A slight twisting motion or a peeling motion can help. If the shells stick badly, but are firm, try spraying or brushing a little water under the baking paper. This will moisten the paper and soften any stuck bits after 1-2 minutes. Don’t use too much water or the shells may start to dissolve around the edges. Remove each shell by gently peeling away the baking paper or with the aid of a thin palette or paring knife. Another solution to the sticking problem can be to place the paper or Silpat (with stuck macarons) in the freezer for a while.
  19. Once removed from the sheet, leave the shells to cool on a wire rack, face up.
  20. unhappy macaron
    Very sticky macarons leave their bellies behind 🙁 Don’t try to peel the macarons off. Just put the paper with stuck macarons on a rack for a few hours and then peel carefully.

  • If you haven’t already made a filling, do so now.
  • The plain shells can be frozen for a few weeks quite well. Complete macarons store well in the fridge for two to three days. After that they become softer. Eat macarons at room temperature.

Background to my recipe

There’s only really one formula for the Italian meringue style of macaron recipe, as illustrated here. Alain Ducasse (in his Grand Livre de Cuisine: Alain Ducasse’s Desserts and Pastries) is approximately 1.4:1.4:1.0:1.4 (almond:icing sugar:egg white:sugar). My favourite book, by Christophe Felder (Les Macarons de Christophe), uses a ratio of 1.33:1.33:1.0:1.33. I’ve used both successfully, but settled for a compromise of 1.35:1.0. I don’t know how much impact these minor variations will have in your kitchen.

If you have any doubt about the preferability of the Italian meringue approach, read what talented Joycelyn at the beautiful Kuidaore site has to say, or see what Kitchen Wench has written about her macaron adventures.

For troubleshooting and additional info on technique, remember to read the previous article.

coloured macarons raw  coloured macarons cooked

Pause for breath

I’ll leave everyone who is so inclined to play with their delicious divas over the weekend. Next week I’ll write about fillings and flavours, amongst other things.

My piping gun has cracked, my piping bag is torn, and I have fourteen neglected egg yolks in the fridge, clamouring for use!

macaron shell with ganache
Naked shell with chocolate ginger ganache. My midnight snack.

You can read La Macaronicité 1: an introduction to the macaron.
La Macaronicité 2: basic technique and simple macaron recipe.
La Macaronicité 4: fillings, flavours, frippery.
La Macaronicité 5: Macawrongs and macarights, macarons day and night.

– DM

La Macaronicité 2: basic technique and simple macaron recipe

making art with the reject macarons

Mesdames et messieurs, enfants et français charmants,

So you want to make macarons? Welcome to the second instalment of La Macaronicité at Syrup & Tang! If you missed the introduction, click here to read it.

La Macaronicité: Technique and knowledge

Main sections:


Ingredients
Fundamentals
Recipe A — macarons au blanc monté
Background to my recipe

There’s a lot of information here and it’s possible that not everything applies to your kitchen or experience. I don’t know everything about them (there’s a limit to how many kilos of almond meal a poor writer can buy!). I welcome feedback about other solutions/explanations/ideas, but please don’t submit comments listing other recipes unless it contributes to a better understanding of the actual process and problems. You’re welcome to contact me directly if you prefer and I’ll incorporate helpful info into the article where appropriate.

Ingredients

The macaron batter consists of only four ingredients:

  • almond meal (ground almond) – amandes en poudre
  • pure icing sugar (confectioner’s sugar, no starch added) – sucre glace
  • egg whites, preferably old – blancs d’œufs
  • sugar, preferably caster sugar – sucre semoule

On occasion you might also see mention of cream of tartar or salt, both of which strengthen egg white foam.

The batter may be coloured (very common) and flavoured (less common, though not too difficult).

There are three types of recipe:

  1. macarons au blanc monté (1) – a simple eggwhite foam is combined with the dry ingredients; preferred in Pierre Hermé’s books
  2. macarons au blanc monté (2) – a simple French meringue is combined with the dry ingredients; in most other books, including Alain Ducasse
  3. macarons au sucre cuit – an Italian meringue is combined with the dry ingredients; preferred in most professional books

I’ll explain the second recipe type (French meringue) here, and introduce the third type in the next article.

Fundamentals

Almond meal is a fine cream-coloured powder made from ground blanched almonds. If it is very fresh it might be a little damp, so you could dry it very gently in a barely warm oven. You can make your own almond meal, but it will be hard to grind fine enough and will be damp.

Icing sugar (confectioner’s sugar) is often sold with starch added (then called ‘icing mixture’ in Australia). This prevents it from clumping, but can leave a pasty mouthfeel if used in icing and is undesirable (though not fatal) in macarons. Use unadulterated (pure) icing sugar if possible.

The almond meal and icing sugar should be put through a high speed food processor or a (clean) blade coffee grinder to obtain a very fine powder (about 10 seconds on highest speed should suffice). Most almond meal is more like sand than flour, so if you leave it unprocessed the macarons will have a coarser surface. No big drama, but we’re looking for perfection, right?

Egg whites consist of proteins and quite a lot of water. The water can make the final batter unmanageably wet, either in the making or in the oven (where the macarons refuse to dry adequately). Old egg whites have lost some of their water content through evaporation so can yield a more successful batter, though this is by no means guaranteed (from personal experience, even evaporating 15% of some egg whites didn’t help). There are also changes in the composition of the proteins with time, but I haven’t seen any analysis to explain why this might be better for macarons. It is also said that older egg whites yield a thicker meringue shell. Many professional recipes use dried egg white (egg white powder) to bolster the protein content.

Bottomline: do not fret about a few hours of ageing here or there; if you have time to age your eggs that’s good. If you don’t, then just use the oldest eggs (ie, not the newest carton) in your fridge that haven’t gone rotten yet.

Oven temperature is a big problem. Very few recipes specify whether the author uses a conventional or a fan-forced (convection) oven. This difference has implications for (1) even temperature, (2) speed of temperature recovery after putting the tray in the oven, (3) actual temperature appropriate for your oven, (4) humidity.

It would seem that a fan-forced oven sometimes offers greater success (though others say the opposite), but I haven’t been able to test this firsthand, as I live in renting-with-old-gas-oven land. Many recipes that explicitly mention a conventional oven recommend starting the macarons at a high temperature and then leaving the oven door ajar and dropping the temperature. There are two possible reasons: (1) this gives the initial lift that the batter needs and then permits drying and firming without burning (propping the door open helps lower the temperature quickly), and (2) this seals the surface of the macaron quickly, preventing cracking and helping it lift as the foot forms. Of course you could take the Roux brothers’ (Roux Brothers on Patisserie) approach and just have two ovens at different temperatures. Yeah, right.

To ensure slow, even heat distribution underneath the macarons, it’s desirable to use two or even three baking trays (cookie sheets) on top of each other. Again, many authors fail to mention that they’re using (and stacking) professional-grade aluminium sheets which are considerably thicker than the cheapo homecook type. I’d probably need six of my flimsy baking trays stacked together! I recently tried using an insulated baking sheet for the first time and found that my previous problems with sticky-bottomed macarons were greatly reduced.

Baking on non-stick baking paper is the best approach. Silicone sheets and Silpat are fine for a successful batch, but just try removing tenaciously sticky, fragile, failed macaron shells from one of these and it will end in tears!

Meringue: when you incorporate it into the almond mixture, you don’t want any pussyfooted folding (e.g., as for mousse or sponges) but nor are you allowed to beat the shit out of it. You need to work quickly and efficiently, incorporating the dry ingredients smoothly but without excessive mixing. At first the ingredients won’t mix well, but it comes together quickly. The final batter is pale and smooth, with no visible aeration.
macaron batter looking good

Piping: if you’re confident at piping, pipe from the side, pulling the tail up over the macaron so that it disappears quickly. However, it’s easier to pipe vertically over the centre, about 5 mm above the tray surface. Flick the nozzle towards the edge as you pull away to finish.

Crusting: more than half of the world’s macaron recipes mention leaving the piped macarons to rest so that they form a ‘skin’ or ‘crust’. There seems to be very little evidence that this makes any difference in the final product. For some batters it will actually cause a duller shell. Maybe resting is necessary for some people’s kitchens, but I didn’t observe a benefit across four tests. It does, however, seem wise to let the batter settle for just a few minutes on the baking tray (see ‘cracking’). [UPDATE: after more testing, I now recommend permitting the shells to sit for half an hour or so. It helps reduce some problems if your oven has strong heat below the baking tray.]

Humidity: I doubt that humidity in the oven is an issue for anyone, but do avoid making macarons on a very humid day as the mixture will tend to be too damp or require adjustment.

Cracking: a few minutes after going into the oven, some macarons batters will develop fissures. In my experience this is the result of (1) overmixing, or (2) rushing the piped batter straight into the oven.

Maturing/ripening: the shells are not at their best when fresh. They will be slightly chewier around the edges than expected. Usually the macarons are assembled and then stored in the fridge for one to two days, after which they are heavenly.

For your edification, here are some useful photos:

good and bad macarons - low temperature
good and bad macarons - mid temperature


freshly piped batter - goodfreshly piped batter - overbeaten
Freshly piped good batter is on the left. Note how the overbeaten batter, on the right, is darker and looks slightly translucent. (The specks in the batter are vanilla.)

If you’re not scared yet, still ready to face the batter, congratulations!

Recipe A
macarons au blanc monté (2); (French meringue)

This method is the one you’ll find almost everywhere on the internet and in most cookbooks. It is simple but fraught with disappointment. In my experience (dodgy ovens, no fan, domestic trays), this style of recipe can yield less than 50% success rate. If you possess a digital probe thermometer or a sugar thermometer I’d recommend waiting for Recipe B. But there are perfectly happy people out there with, presumably, better kitchens than I. (You can see a charming fella explaining it (in French) on video here, and one of the clearest shorter explanations in writing is by Coco&Me. One brave experimenter, Veronica’s Test Kitchen, may also have useful tips for you if you prefer this style of recipe.)

Regardless of what the recipes say, I suggest first deciding how many eggs you want to sacrifice. Crack and separate the eggs, remembering to keep the whites and all vessels and implements scrupulously free of fat or egg yolk. You don’t need to weigh the egg whites at this point. One egg white will yield about fourteen 3-4 cm macaron shells.

This recipe will benefit most from aged egg whites or egg white powder. You can age the whites by leaving them uncovered at room temperature for 24-72 hours in a shallow bowl. This allows some of the moisture to evaporate. Cover the bowl with gauze or kitchen paper (not plastic) if you want to avoid any dust or other surprises. People are often apprehensive about leaving egg whites at room temperature, but the final cooked product will be safe even if the raw egg white might have been contaminated.

Formula and method

When you’re ready to start cooking, weigh the egg whites and then scale the recipe appropriately. The formula is below.

‘eggwhite’ refers to the weight of the egg whites in grams. The righthand column provides an example calculation.

Ingredient Amount Example (with eggwhite=50 gm )
Almond meal 1.3 x eggwhite 1.3 x 50 = 65 gm
Icing sugar 1.6 x eggwhite 1.6 x 50 = 80 gm
Castor sugar 0.8 x eggwhite 0.8 x 50 = 40 gm
Egg white                 50 gm
Total weight _______ 235 gm

A batter with 50 gm egg white should yield one baking tray 30 cm x 40 cm or approximately 25 shells.

Preheat your oven:
Conventional oven: centre rack, 180C. Convection oven: 160C

  1. Stack two or three heavy baking trays. Line the top tray with non-stick baking paper. If you’re well organised, mark the paper with 2 or 3 cm circles, spaced about 4 cm apart (the piped batter will spread about 1 cm).
  2. Process the almond meal and icing sugar at high speed to achieve a fine powder. Sift (or whisk the powder by hand) to break up any lumps of powder.
  3. In a clean bowl, beat the room-temperature egg whites until foamy and just at soft peaks. Gradually beat in the castor sugar, adding a little at a time. Beat on medium speed for a number of minutes until you have a firm, glossy and compact meringue.
  4. whipped egg whites at soft peak stageshiny, compact French meringuebatter falling from spatula

  5. Sprinkle half of the dry mixture over the meringue and fold in with a spatula using a circular motion around the bowl and under the batter. Repeat with the remaining powder. You don’t need to be gentle, but the goal is to incorporate the dry ingredients quickly to avoid overmixing. It’s better to undermix than overmix. You can add colourings or flavourings during this mixing.
  6. The final batter should be the colour of pale ivory (if you haven’t coloured it) and smooth and thick but flowing (typically referred to as being ‘like magma’, but as few of us have visited an active volcano or been to the centre of the Earth…). A ribbon of batter dropped from a spoon onto the top of the remaining batter should take about 30 seconds to disappear.
  7. Dab a little batter under each corner of the baking paper on the tray to anchor it (otherwise it’ll slip).
  8. Spoon the batter into a piping bag/gun with a 8-10 mm nozzle and pipe evenly onto the baking paper. Mild peaks should settle back into the batter eventually. If they don’t disappear, tap the tray repeatedly on a table until the peaks have largely disappeared. Usually the batter will spread a little and any bumps will disappear. Sometimes the batter is quite runny and will rapidly flatten out. (It might be overmixed.) This consistency will often yield irregular shells. If the batter never stops spreading then you should probably scrape it all back into a bowl, gently add some more almond meal and try again.
  9. If you want, you can leave the piped batter to dry for anywhere between 20 mins and two hours.
  10. Place the tray in the oven. If you’re using a conventional oven, cook as normal for two mins and then open the oven door about 2.5 cm and place a wooden spoon between the door and the jamb to permit hot air to escape for the rest of the cooking time. (Your spoon might get a bit singed, so soaking it in water briefly beforehand is a good idea.) For a convection oven, you will need to experiment a little, possibly leaving the door ajar for the whole time.
  11. At the 5 minute mark the shells should have lifted and developed ‘feet’. At the 6-7 minute mark they should be starting to colour just slightly. Rotate the baking sheet if the colouring is uneven. The outermost shells often have to be sacrificed in order for the centre ones to be cooked, but the majority should be no more than the palest cream colour. They are probably ready if a shell moves only reluctantly on its foot when you lightly nudge it with a finger.
  12. Remove from the oven and leave on the tray for a minute or two. Gently try to lift one of the outermost shells. A slight twisting motion or a peeling motion can help. If the shells stick badly, but are firm, try spraying or brushing a little water under the baking paper. This will moisten the paper and soften any stuck bits after 1-2 minutes. Don’t use too much water or the shells may start to dissolve around the edges. Remove each shell by gently peeling away the baking paper or with the aid of a thin palette or paring knife. Another solution to the sticking problem can be to place the paper or Silpat (with stuck macarons) in the freezer for a while.
  13. Once removed from the sheet, leave the shells to cool on a wire rack, face up.
  • If you haven’t already made a filling, do so now. A simple chocolate ganache is one of the easiest quick fillings. (Break 50 gm dark chocolate into a bowl. Bring 60 gm cream to a gentle simmer and then pour over the chocolate. Leave to stand for two minutes, then mix together with a spatula. Allow to cool slowly, stirring occasionally. When completely cool, apply a small blob to the underside of one shell and gently press another shell on top. Refrigerate for 24-48 hours if you are the patient type.)
  • The plain shells can be frozen for a few weeks quite well. Complete macarons store well in the fridge for two to three days. After that they become softer. Eat macarons at room temperature.

Background to my recipe

A very standard formula for the French meringue style of macaron recipe is approximately 1.25:2.3:1.0:0.3 (almond:icing sugar:egg white:caster sugar). Variants of this are used by Alain Ducasse, Christophe Felder, J.M.Perruchon & G.J.Bellouet and Dean Brettschneider. Pierre Hermé’s formula is similar, though not using a meringue. Each of these authors has a different approach to temperature and crusting. Popular American writer David Lebovitz published a chocolate macaron recipe on his site which many people found reliable (and is the one I made without trouble and showed a picture of in the first article in this series). His recipe is, however, much sweeter and uses a stronger meringue. I noticed, too, that Pascal Rigo’s popular recipe also takes this approach, as does Sydney chef Justin North in his recent book French Lessons. I didn’t want the sweetness, but tried adapting the approach, with the result presented above (formula of 1.30:1.60:1.00:0.80). The total sugar is only slightly higher than the most common formula and the slight increase in almond meal seems to make it less wet.

Famous internet recipes: if you go surfing you’ll find many recipes. Some are useful, some are rubbish, and many are unattributed. There’s a very popular online recipe which has spread far and wide but is rarely correctly attributed to Pascal Rigo (from his wonderful book American Boulangerie). The majority of the remaining recipes are from Pierre Hermé’s various books.

Famous chefs’ recipes: even Hermé has occasionally underdescribed his recipes, but real disapproval should be directed at those who have blithely provided poorly explained recipes for a product as temperamental as this. I greatly doubt that most restaurants make their macarons using the first style of recipe I discuss (unless they have access to egg white powder), so why foist it on the uninitiated? Note, too, that French pâtissiers readily admit that it can take some time for a macaron-maker to get used to a new kitchen if he/she changes jobs.

Troubleshooting

My macarons are delicate and sticky. They fall apart or lose their insides when I try to lift them off the baking paper. Solution: Don’t wet the paper. Instead, place the sheet of paper (with stuck macarons) on a drying rack and walk away for a few hours. In my experience the shells will be fairly easy to peel off once they’ve cooled and their bases have dried a little. These shells will usually be too damp for use for proper macarons. Save them for one of the alternative uses listed below.

My macarons are firm and chewy. Solution: Cook them for less time or at a lower temperature.

My macarons brown too quickly on top. Solution: Try covering a spare oven shelf with foil and place it on the rung above the macarons in the oven.

My macarons have a big empty space under the shell. Solution: Cook them at a higher temperature. (There may also be other causes.)
air pocket in macaron

My macarons have frilly feet which extend sideways from the shell. Solution: This is often a problem with the simple recipe, but seems worse at low temperatures. Try letting the piped batter rest for a while before baking.

Alternative uses

Whilst I wish everyone success, it’s worth having a backup use for any abortive macaronic adventures.

Dessert 1: break up the macarons and place a number of pieces in a tall glass. Add morello cherries. Pour on some port. Leave to stand for 15 minutes. Top with whipped cream. Pour a little cherry juice over the cream. Serve.

Dessert 2: make a trifle-like dish with berries.

Dessert 3: give to unsuspecting friends or neighbours as ‘soft almond meringues’.

Phew!

You can read La Macaronicité 1: an introduction to the macaron.
La Macaronicité 3: the more reliable macaron recipe and a few tips.
La Macaronicité 4: fillings, flavours, frippery.
La Macaronicité 5: Macawrongs and macarights, macarons day and night.

– DM

La Macaronicité 1: an introduction to the macaron

fancy large macaron with raspberries and rose petal
The Rosier from Maison Stohrer, rue Montorgueil, Paris. Source: Harry.

Ladies and gentlemen, small children and furry Frenchmen,

Welcome to La Macaronicité!

This is the first article in a special series about one of the world’s favourite petit fours. Two delicate almond meringue domes are sandwiched together with a flavoured filling to become le macaron.

Macaron. Note the spelling. Not macaroon. Note the spelling. I am a snobby Francophile pedant. Normally I spit on linguistic affectation (except for humorous effect, bien sûr), but when it comes to my beloved macarons, no ‘o’ shall interlope. Macaroooons can designate heavy, almondy, nay perhaps coconutty, creations which have their place in the world but most often pale into proletarian insigcookieness next to a macaronic beauty. The macaron is the diva of the biscuit baking universe.


Diva? It’s just bakedgoods. Indeed, but such a fickle, frustrating, fabulous good! While the eater may delight in flavour, texture and the creator’s artistry, the same creator must often experience heightened blood-pressure and many wasted egg whites.

Enlightenment

If you haven’t yet experienced the world of the macaron, I present here an analysis of this shapely beauty.

chocolate macaron
Chocolate macaron. (c) Duncan Markham.

Within the shell is soft — not wet — almond meringue. When you bite into the delicate shell, it gives way with the slightest crunch and compresses to yield a mouthful of delicate, rapidly dissolving meringue and filling.

Macarons come in approximately three sizes: tiny 2-3 cm (often restaurant petit fours), small 3-5 cm (most popular, also referred to as gerbets), and large/standard 5-8 cm. You can go larger, but then you’re making gâteaux! The smaller sizes are filled with various flavoured creams or other fillings, while the larger often include pieces of fruit, jellies or other firmer elements and decorations.

Background

For Parisians, the French and the travelling rich, the macaron de Paris has been a familiar friend for many a year. The Parisian salon de thé (tea salon) Ladurée claims this macaron as its own, attributing its invention to Pierre Desfontaines in the early 20th century (although there are many other macarons in France, it seems that none resemble the smooth, delicate, fragrant beauty of Desfontaines’s creation).

What path the proto-macaron took to reach its apogee is hard to establish. The Larousse Gastronomique (1996) pays them no heed. Culinaria France (1998) mentions them only in passing, as caterers’ petit fours. It’s as if no-one cared about them until the turn of this century when, suddenly, pâtissiers like Pierre Hermé gained renown as very special culinary artists (I believe he is also responsible for the food-in-glasses phenomenon which is all the rage in France but, thankfully, doesn’t seem to have spread). American writer Dorie Greenspan also attributes the macaronic wave to Hermé (read here).

Hermé’s small, sleek boutique on rue Bonaparte (6th arrondissement) is home to perhaps the most revered meringues on the planet. Queues snake out the door on Saturdays as connoisseurs (and others) wait to try Hermé’s latest flavours or to taste his famous Ispahan (a rose macaron with rose/lychee cream and raspberry jelly). Some of his creations are displayed and described by Fanny at the wonderful Foodbeam blog.

If Hermé is the artist, Ladurée is the classic purveyor. Located closer to the upmarket hotels and monied arrondissements of the Right Bank, here the queues seem to grow longer and longer every spring. Recent reports told of American tourists (and it really does seem to be mostly them) queuing 100 metres down rue Royale (8th arrondissement). Sensible Parisians probably flee to one of Ladurée’s other salons or other excellent purveyors. In fact, there are so many macarons to be seen in pâtissiers’ windows that I feel a recurring sense of trepidation that saturation point will be reached and, like the fickle batter they start out as, they will vanish, supplanted by something less stylish, less delicate, less diva.

Already, the proliferation of macarons has produced many a poor imitator. It pains my heart to throw one in the bin, but there has been cause. I was amazed at a window full of overcooked (brown!) macarons in a shop in Chartres, and have chewed my way through large macarons filled with hard, cold, greasy buttercream in both Paris and Melbourne. I’ve seen lumpy things sold for premium prices and have heard tell of a restaurant serving macarons filled with split crème pâtissière.

Awareness

In the gourmet internet, English-language discussion of macarons commenced in late 2002. The mainstream media started writing about them. Guidebooks mentioned them. And, to my horror, Donna Hay magazine actually ran a small article and recipe in 2005, even though nary an Australian had yet seen these little divas in situ. As time has passed, they’ve popped up as tiny petit fours in fine-dining restaurants in Sydney and Melbourne and, slowly but surely, in Francophile pâtisseries. The decreasingly impressive Laurent boulangerie chain has sold macarons for at least a few years, but a recent visit revealed a display of garishly coloured, misshapen, broken mistakes. Other places do a much better job. Nowadays, with the grands maîtres of the macarons having boutiques in many Asian metropoles, you don’t have to travel far to see what the hype is about (and oh how the Japanese and Singaporeans have taken to them!).

various chocolate macarons
Macarons from Jean-Paul Hévin. (c) Duncan Markham.

I haven’t yet met someone who would poo-poo the macaron, though certainly some are shocked by their sweetness and may experience saccharine traumas at the hands of poor bakers. Of greatest interest for me has been the phenomenon of homecooks attempting macarons without ever having experienced the original. It goes against the modern trend of people only working from recipes for dishes they’ve already experienced (though this is not the case with many online cybernauts), and shows the strength of public enthusiasm for these little gems. The experimentation is wonderful but in, for me, a rare moment of anti-experimentation, I have to say that some of the marathon discussions to be found on the internet suffer from the fact that the cooks needed to know what the final goal really was. Macarons are tricky creatures and knowing the final goal gives a better sense of when things are going awry. (No other dish comes to mind as a parallel case right now.)

So here we have it; the scene is set. If you want to make some yourself, I’ll attempt to guide you through the process. Stock up now on egg whites, almond meal and icing sugar. You’ll need a kitchen machine or a good electric beater, a high-speed food-processor or a coffee grinder, and it would be wise to have good kitchen scales and a probe or sugar thermometer.

You can read Part 2 — La Macaronicité 2: basic technique and simple macaron recipe.
La Macaronicité 3: the more reliable macaron recipe and a few tips.
La Macaronicité 4: fillings, flavours, frippery.
La Macaronicité 5: Macawrongs and macarights, macarons day and night.

– DM

Canberra: not a foodie’s paradise, but a surprise or two nonetheless

old and new parliament houses

Canberra. The national capital. Reputedly one of the most boring conurbations on the planet.

I was last in Canberra in 1992 for the briefest of visits. I had, however, spent four years living there in the late 80s and can’t forget the shockingly quiet and ordered life of that sprawling place. For a city overrun with public servants, diplomats and the entourages of politicians, it offered relatively little in the way of nightlife or culinary enjoyment.

I lived on campus at ANU, which was lucky because navigating Canberra without a car wasn’t much fun. Despite a far-reaching bus network, getting places could be hell because of the infrequency and circuitousness of buses and routes and the dearth of options in the evening or on Sundays. Taxis were few and unreliable. At least life as a cyclist could be good.

Not a hell of a lot has changed.

The bus-stops have been upgraded to poles with a sign rather than stumpy wooden stakes planted in the ground. The same buses (now almost 20 years old) ply the streets. The taxis are still dodgy. The bike paths are more numerous.

canberra busstop boxy house

The sprawl of spaghetti-street suburbs eats ever further into the surrounding bush and pastoral land, perhaps making Canberra one of the lowest-density urban sprawls imaginable. It’s a very pretty sprawl, very Australian in its greenery(/brownery), and with quaintly dated suburban architecture. Given that most residential structures in Canberra date from the 40s and 50s at the earliest, it’s surprising how many two-storey brick dwellings there are, while the boxy metal or fibro houses in some suburbs seem out of place, like the poorer areas of country towns or the estates of fibro housing commission dwellings on generous plots that you once saw (or perhaps still can see) in much of New South Wales.

On weekdays, much of Canberra is ghostly quiet. Everyone is at work and the suburbs become tracts of hushed streets and echoing houses, the silence and still broken only by the various beasties which exist in hordes:

  • Magpies (I survived this visit without being swooped on!)
  • Willy-wagtails (so instead I was molested by a piddly willy-wagtail)
  • Ants (why, oh why, do I stop to take photos whilst standing on a bull-ant nest?)
  • Cicadas (so numerous that they were actually flying around, rather than just creaking from tree camouflage)
  • Spiders (none, this time, thank goodness)

bull ant cicadas fornicating
magpie monster scary willy-wagtail

At 6pm the humans return. The only daytime human life is found at the local shops — mostly small strips of a handful of shops — or in the large ‘town centres’ (Belconnen, Woden, Tuggeranong) and the city centre, Civic. Everything is planned. Corner shops or randomly placed eateries are non-existent because there was no opportunity for them to arise. You could walk Canberra for hours without coming across a source of refreshment.

The biggest change seemed to be in Civic. At the end of the 80s a modest shopping centre was built, adding a touch of modernity to the rather moribund city centre. Now expanded, the ‘Canberra Centre’ is a large, diverse complex of shops, adding vitality to the centre. Other parts of Civic have sprouted al fresco dining and a tangible café culture, something painfully absent two decades ago. Alongside all this you can still find daggy arcades and unrenovated small shops, adding to the strange Canberran ambience of simultaneous modernity, conservatism and anachronism.

Food remains a weak point. There are scarcely any restaurants to compare with the state capitals’ first-echelon establishments. Good supermarkets are thin on the ground. With the exception of one or two local shopping strips, there seem to be few remarkable cafés or purveyors of comestibles. And there seem to be no active foodbloggers there!

Here and there, sparsely scattered, are shops of note, but you have to know them and be willing to travel:

  • Silo Bakery in Kingston — excellent bread and French tarts and pastries. Abuzz from opening to closing.
  • Bruno’s Truffels in Mawson — truffles, hearty pastries and good wholesome bread. Lots of impressive gingerbread houses for Christmas too. The truffles aren’t cheap, at $95/kg, but they were very, very good.
  • Tutto Continental in Mawson — quite well stocked Italian (and more) deli.
  • Asian Noodle House in Dickson — very impressive laksa. Very.

This is not an exhaustive list, but I fear it wouldn’t be much longer if I were aiming to be ambitious! (And I suppose I should mention that there is a branch of Essential Ingredient.)

While the general food scene might make one cry, there is one saving grace. Canberra’s Capital Region Farmers Market outdoes any in Melbourne in its scope, diversity and relaxed, genuine feel. That contrived ‘lifestyle event’ edge to most/all Melbourne farmers’ markets seemed almost completely absent and there was a refreshing multicultural element. A Ghanaian stall, a seller of Middle Eastern sweets, a mainland Chinese snack kiosk, and one or two other vendors added to the already stimulating mix in the two sheds and open area. And the brownie from Amore bakery! Oh mama!

market entrance
apples at the market garlic grower
snack placards inside the market shed

I would almost, kinda, maybe, in a dream (not reality!) move to Canberra for this market. But because the bus system sucks, I can’t face the thought of trekking out to the inconvenient market location. And anyway, Canberra is expensive, flyblown (no, really, their fly plague is worse than Melbourne’s this summer. I was almost drinking Aerogard to keep them off me.), hot, cold, and endowed with too many creepy crawlies.

The birds are pretty, but.

galahs
pretty birds

– DM