Mieux vaut déceler une faiblesse que se laisser soupçonner d’un vice. (Better to reveal a weakness than be suspected of a vice.) – Denis Diderot, Jacques le fataliste et son maître, 1765 – 1784

Macarons, that elegant cross between a confection and a pastry, that tiny, sweet specialty of France. Lovely, they are, yet fussy and temperamental to make. Precision and just the right hand are what lies between the baker and the perfect macaron. For many years, I shied away from trying my hand at macarons, fearing that they were just too complicated and any effort was sure to end in failure. Yet I do love a challenge, a baking challenge, that is. Pushed up against the proverbial wall and dared to do something and I will do it! Give me a deadline and I’m there. Courage is gathered, enthusiasm overflows and I am determined to, if not succeed at least fail while trying!

That is how I came to make my very first, Violet Macarons with Chocolate Violet Ganache. From there, I went on to make Chocolate Pistachio Macarons, Coffee Macarons, Tulip Macarons with Honey-Pistachio Mascarpone Cream, Vanilla Cardamom Macarons with Cherry Mascaropone Cream, Honeysuckle Rose Macarons with Toblerone Ganache, and more flavors than I can think of off hand. Yet my favorite? Chocolate Gingerbread Macarons.

Once again, my younger son Simon approached me and introduced the subject abruptly, as is his way, as if I have been following his train of thought all along. He asked while demanding, demanded while asking, making that lilting statement of Well, if you want to bake cupcakes or something again, my friends will eat them. Friday night I’ll be at Martin’s for dinner. He stated it casually, almost off-handedly, with that familiar, barely perceptible shrug of his lanky shoulders. It somehow came out that his friends had requested something homemade, or maybe he had made it known that I was free to offer up dessert whenever they desire. A chocolate layer cake for his friend’s birthday party, cupcakes for a dinner and muffins for their workgroup at school of an afternoon, and a new generation, a new gang of friends had come to know – and apparently crave – my baked goods.

Well, okay, no problem, I declared, heaving that motherly sigh of sacrifice while secretly thrilling that my baby boy, usually so embarrassed by my being so, well, I don’t know…American? Outrageous? A nudnik? Embarrassing? has actually offered my treats to his friends, once again, and is answering their young call of the wild for snacks from my kitchen.

But there the problem lay. What to make? Now, my son, my Simple Simon, would be quite happy if I made the same three things over and over again and into eternity. I highly doubt that he even partakes of what he brings to his friends. But where is the excitement or challenge in that for Old Mom? Or for his friends? And so I asked him to ask them what they would like. And he came back with the most astonishing of requests: macarons. Did they even know that I make these delicate, fussy little concoctions? Had he bragged? Happily I happened to have two jars of fresh egg whites floating around the back of my refrigerator and let the games begin!

I turned back to one of my favorite flavor combinations, my favorite macarons, les Macarons Pains d’Épice, the Gingerbread macarons. I adjusted the flavoring by omitting the extra ground cinnamon I usually add and doubling the cocoa for a more pronounced chocolate sensation highlighted by the gingerbread spice blend. I filled the macarons with a simple chocolate ganache. So when he dashed into the house precisely at 7, dropped his backpack on the floor and demanded I pack up the macs in foil vite vite!, grabbed the foil package and dashed back out, his thank you a breathless wisp caught in the breeze of the swinging door, hidden among his embarrassment to acknowledge my good deed… well, I had to smile. I know how hard showing appreciation is for him. It is enough that he wanted me to bake for his friends.