Madeleines Trois Parfums
I love madeleines, French butter cakes. Especially eating hot madeleins just out of oven with cold milk is heaven. So, today I made madeleines with three different flavors: orange, Early Grey and green tea.
Orange Madeleine Recipe
Adapted from my Cordon Bleu note
Yields 12 Madeleines
Prep time: 30 min
Cooking time: 11-13 min
- 1/2 cup & 1 ts of confectioner’s sugar (65g)
- 1 orange for zest
- Pinch of salt
- 1 egg
- 2 ts of whole milk (10ml)
- 1/2 cup & 1 ts of all-purpose flour (65g)
- 1/2 ts of baking powder (2g)
- 5 tbs of unsalted butter, melted then cooled until lukewarm (65g)
- Confectioners’ sugar for garnish
1. Preheat oven to 375°F (190°C).
2. In a large mixing bowl, beat an egg, milk, confectioner’s sugar, orange zest and a pinch of salt just to blend. And set aside.
2. In another bowl, whisk flour and baking powder. This eliminates the sifting process of flour.
3. Pour the dry to the wet mixture, and fold turning the bowl just until moistened.
4. Beat in melted butter slowly until thick ribbon is formed.
5. Fill 2/3 of madeleine molds with batter.
6. Bake for 11-13 minutes, or until puffed and golden brown.
7. Let cool the madeleines in the pan for one minute. Then transfer madeleines to the wire rack. Madeleines should come out clean after one mintue of rest in the non-stick pan.
8. Dust the shell sides with confectioners’ sugar (optional) before serving.
Green Tea Madeleine Variation
Instead of orange zest, add two teaspoons of green tea and sprinkle toasted black sesame seeds on madeleine molds before filling them with batter. Make sure you are using bright colored green tea for beautiful outcome.
Get your matcha.
Earl Grey Madeleine Variation
Instead of orange zest, add two teaspoons of loose Earl Grey tea or two Earl Grey tea bags.
P.S. I want to share with you a part of Marcel Proust’s episode of the Madeleines. <3
No sooner had the warm liquid mixed with the crumbs touched my palate than a shudder ran through me and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary thing that was happening to me. An exquisite pleasure had invaded my senses, something isolated, detached, with no suggestion of its origin. And at once the vicissitudes of life had become indifferent to me, its disasters innocuous, its brevity illusory – this new sensation having had on me the effect which love has of filling me with a precious essence; or rather this essence was not in me it was me. … Whence did it come? What did it mean? How could I seize and apprehend it? … And suddenly the memory revealed itself. The taste was that of the little piece of madeleine which on Sunday mornings at Combray (because on those mornings I did not go out before mass), when I went to say good morning to her in her bedroom, my aunt Léonie used to give me, dipping it first in her own cup of tea or tisane. The sight of the little madeleine had recalled nothing to my mind before I tasted it. And all from my cup of tea.