Marvelous madeleines: Lovely little butter cakes easier than you think

We got our daughter started on caffeine rather early. She’d had her first sip of coffee before she could walk or talk and by the time she was a toddler she could fairly murder a cup of milky decaf. Now that she’s an adult — or, at 18, adultish — she’s sensibly given up coffee in favor of tea. Either way, however, she likes a little smackerel of something to nibble while sipping her warming beverage. We introduced her to madeleines at about the same time we introduced her to coffee. These shell-shaped French cakelets, enjoyed as an accompaniment to coffee since the 1700s, were always available in whatever coffee shop we happened to be patronizing. They were the perfect not-too-sweet treat to hold in her teeny hands, and it would keep her occupied for about half an hour as she gnawed it down to a damp, sticky nubbin.

Even when we were no longer using madeleines to gain a half-hour of uninterrupted conversation, we continued to enjoy them with our coffee and tea. I had assumed they were the result of an impossible-to-learn secret French recipe known only to a few elite bakers, but then I bought a box of confectioner’s sugar and there, on the side, was a recipe for madeleines a l’orange. They seemed no more difficult than mixing muffins. All I needed was a madeleine pan.

I’d never purchased any kind of specialized kitchen equipment before. All my bakeware is a hodgepodge of items formerly owned by my mother and grandmothers. It seemed somewhat extravagant to buy something that could only be used for one purpose. In this spirit of daring — and perhaps because we knew we’d all get to share in the rewards of the purchase — we made a family outing of the occasion. We went to a boutique kitchen store in Portland, found the madeleine pan and spent the rest of the day happily browsing in shops.

When we got home, I whipped up a batch of madeleines and was a little shocked to discover that nothing could be easier. I just followed the directions and out popped a dozen golden shells, complete with the distinctive hump that’s the signature characteristic of a properly baked madeleine. I was far more astonished, however, by the difference between a cold, hard coffee shop madeleine and a soft, warm madeleine straight from the oven, sprinkled with powdered sugar.

The good news is you don’t need a madeleine pan to bake madeleines. Mini muffin tins will do just fine, as will regular-sized muffin cups, although you might need to adjust the cooking time and add a few minutes. I have ivy-shaped tins and corn-shaped tins, and they both worked just fine in the dark days before I had a madeleine pan. The important thing to remember is that even if your madeleines aren’t shell-shaped, they will be scrumptious little cakes made with lots of butter, and that’s really all you need.

Orange Madeleines

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and thoroughly butter your madeleine tray. (Of course you can use cooking spray or oil. I just think the butter adds, well, more butter.) Sift together 2/3 cup flour and ¼ teaspoon baking powder and set aside. Beat 2 eggs, ½ teaspoon orange extract and 1 tablespoon orange zest on high speed for 5 minutes. I should note that five minutes is a long time when you are holding a hand mixer and your arm might get tired. If you want to stop at 3 minutes, go right ahead; I can’t say that the extra 2 minutes makes any difference. Next, slowly pour in 1 cup powdered sugar, then beat another 5 minutes (or 3, or 2) until thick.

Gently fold the flour mixture into the egg mixture, followed by the melted butter. Mix until smooth. Carefully spoon the mixture into the shell cups, filling only about three-quarters full. Resist the temptation to overfill the cups, as I tend to do, and you should have enough batter for 24 madeleines. Most madeleine pans have 12 cups so you’ll probably need to use the same pan twice. Fortunately, you can snack on the first batch of madeleines as you’re preparing the second.

Bake for 8 minutes, or until edges are light brown and ever so slightly crispy. Cool in the pan for 1 or 2 minutes, loosen with a knife and invert onto a rack to finish cooling. Dust with powdered sugar and serve while still a little warm. You can store them in a cookie jar, but they’ll get a little sticky; best just to leave them on the counter, under a cake dome. They won’t last more than a day, anyway.

Variations include using lemon extract and lemon zest, or almond extract and orange zest. I think lime madeleines would be excellent. Try adding spices like cinnamon, vanilla or cardamom. Get exotic and add a little rosewater or lavender syrup. There’s also a cone-shaped British madeleine that’s coated in jam, rolled in dried coconut and topped with a candied cherry. You’re only limited by your imagination.

I’ll end with a fun fact: We very nearly named our daughter Madeleine, not after the storybook character created by Ludwig Bemelmans but after this diminutive butter cake. We decided, on balance, that our child would probably prefer not to be named after food. She somehow still ended up with the nickname Pickle. No matter how we address her, however, she can still gnaw a madeleine like a champion.