Sometimes my pastry eating and photographing schedule get so intense that I literally don’t have enough time to edit photos and write something thoughtful about the goodies at-hand. This week has been particularly bananas. From being “forced” to do such things as leisurely sip a half dozen sublime coffees at Coutume Café for hours on end, to photographing Café Pouchkine’s genius Emmauel Ryon at work in his laboratoire, there’s just been too much real-life awesomeness to fully focus on the blog content here. Thank God I always keep a set of pre-processed, pre-loaded photos on hand for just such time-pinched occasions.
Pierre Hermé’s macarons were of course a logical “emergency” pastry to whip out. People’s natural affinity for his work will let me slide by here without toiling away at a lengthy written entry. So sorry to all of you who enjoy reading through my hyperbole, invented words, and more, but … hey, at least your getting some Pierre Hermé macarons today, right? With that, let’s dig into my light musings on the Asperge Verte & Huile de Noisette Macaron.
I know a lot of you are probably thinking, “Asperge verte . . . is that . . . no, that can’t be what I think it is, can it?” Yep, it’s green asparagus. This is an asparagus macaron, my friends. Though, if you’ve read my PH macaron entries before, you know that the first ingredient the master lists is often the secondary flavor. It’s really the hazelnut oil that is the dominant tone in these puppies. The asparagus notes are actually quite light within the hyper-ample crème. It’s only when you get to the small chunk or two of slippery asparagus nestled in the center of these that the gardeny goodness of it all pops out and says hi.
Surprisingly, I actually kind of like it overall. Even if one of the flavors is pretty whacky, the textures of the piece are nice. Can’t say I’ve ever seen any customer buy it, but then again neither have I. As you know, I rarely actually pay for my macs chez Monsieur Hermé; they’ve got the science of spoiling me and skewing my opinions down to a science, and I love them for it.
All I can say is that if you love seriously stuffed macs, these were made for you.
So, yeah, should these asparagus macs ever come back to Pierre Hermé, give one a try. But since I’d been saving these shots for a day when I didn’t have enough time to process more current treats, I think about a year has gone by since they were last in the case. Monsieur Hermé’s newest pieces are also garden-fresh, but the focus is on the florals for the moment. Not a bad turn of events, so perhaps my best advice to you is to snag his Jardin Secret – quite possibly my favorite of the macs I’ve ever not paid for chez Monsieur Hermé.