Chocolate Macaroons and a Dead Groom (Poppy Peters Mysteries Book 2) by A. Gardner Page B
Authors: A. Gardner
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wipes her hands and walks toward me hardly making eye contact. I can't tell if she's about to kick me out or give me a welcoming hug. I never know with her. As she gets closer I see the bags under her eyes, and the freckles on her fair cheeks seem to stand out more than usual today.
"There you are," she says. "Come with me. We're running low on palmiers . I need you to shape some for me."
I press my lips together to keep my jaw from hanging open.
No croissant duty?
Marta pulls a heavy roll of puff pastry from the fridge and sets it on my counter. Luckily, I've made palmiers before but not to the scale that they are made here. Back in Georgia, the palmiers I made were small and fat. They looked like more of a rounded cookie with a dash of cinnamon than the traditional heart-shaped ones. The palmiers at Le Croissant are flat, crisp, and as big as my hand. Sometimes larger.
"Sugar and a pinch of salt on both sides. Roll. Sugar again. And bring the pan to Dandre to press them and bake them." Marta instructs me plainly and simply. She keeps her arms loosely at her sides and waits for me to acknowledge that I understand.
"Got it," I respond.
"If you have questions," she continues. She points to her station where an assortment of glazed strawberries are waiting to be plated.
No warnings.
No scoldings.
No shaking her head in disappointment.
Maybe what I said back in England resonated with her?
I remember the first palmier I ever saw. It was at our local grocery store back in Oregon. They weren't the fresh-baked bakery kind, but I saw them in a sealed box next to the doughnuts. It took some begging to get my mom to let me try one. She was always strict about my diet, especially in middle school when ballet started taking over my life. I was drawn to the heart shape and the sugary glaze that made that pastry shine. I wasn't expecting the crunch I got when I bit into it—like a crisp cookie. It was one of my few indulgences from childhood, I guess you could say. Besides Grandma's brigadeiro .
But I looked at them differently when I had to make them. Suddenly, the rounded tops and swirls of pastry in the center seemed too intimidating to try. When I finally did try, I realized it was simpler than I thought.
I roll my pastry dough into a square large enough to cut fatter than normal palmiers . In a bowl, I mix together sugar with a pinch of salt. Making sure the puff pastry dough is sugared on both sides, I roll both edges of the dough until they meet at the center. I place one of the halves on top of the other to make it a French heart, then I stick my pastry roll in the fridge to firm up a bit. Bree did that back at Calle Pastry Academy, and it made cutting her palmiers much easier.
I do the same thing to all the puff pastry dough Marta gave to me, then I take out my first palmier roll and begin cutting the cookie-like pastries. I sprinkle each individual palmier with sugar one last time to make sure there's enough to caramelize in the oven. When I've arranged an entire baking tray, I take my palmiers to the oven to be baked.
Dandre has an oven ready for me. He observes my handiwork and gives me a wink of approval before he puts the first batch in the oven. Marta stretches at her station before walking to mine. I quickly wipe my counter, knowing that Jean Pierre likes us to clean thoroughly as we go.
"Not bad," Marta admits. She gently touches a raw palmier and forces a half smile. "Of course, I can't fully approve them to be put out front until I've tasted one, but why don't you move on to éclairs."
My chest pounds like I've downed too many espressos. This is want I wanted. The chance to make and try everything. The opportunity to cook with the best kitchen brigade in Europe. Marta doesn't even blink as she pulls out the ingredients for the bakery's classic chocolate éclairs. Le Croissant has many other flavors including raspberry vanilla bean, and even salted-caramel.
"I'll have you make a test batch," Marta
"There you are," she says. "Come with me. We're running low on palmiers . I need you to shape some for me."
I press my lips together to keep my jaw from hanging open.
No croissant duty?
Marta pulls a heavy roll of puff pastry from the fridge and sets it on my counter. Luckily, I've made palmiers before but not to the scale that they are made here. Back in Georgia, the palmiers I made were small and fat. They looked like more of a rounded cookie with a dash of cinnamon than the traditional heart-shaped ones. The palmiers at Le Croissant are flat, crisp, and as big as my hand. Sometimes larger.
"Sugar and a pinch of salt on both sides. Roll. Sugar again. And bring the pan to Dandre to press them and bake them." Marta instructs me plainly and simply. She keeps her arms loosely at her sides and waits for me to acknowledge that I understand.
"Got it," I respond.
"If you have questions," she continues. She points to her station where an assortment of glazed strawberries are waiting to be plated.
No warnings.
No scoldings.
No shaking her head in disappointment.
Maybe what I said back in England resonated with her?
I remember the first palmier I ever saw. It was at our local grocery store back in Oregon. They weren't the fresh-baked bakery kind, but I saw them in a sealed box next to the doughnuts. It took some begging to get my mom to let me try one. She was always strict about my diet, especially in middle school when ballet started taking over my life. I was drawn to the heart shape and the sugary glaze that made that pastry shine. I wasn't expecting the crunch I got when I bit into it—like a crisp cookie. It was one of my few indulgences from childhood, I guess you could say. Besides Grandma's brigadeiro .
But I looked at them differently when I had to make them. Suddenly, the rounded tops and swirls of pastry in the center seemed too intimidating to try. When I finally did try, I realized it was simpler than I thought.
I roll my pastry dough into a square large enough to cut fatter than normal palmiers . In a bowl, I mix together sugar with a pinch of salt. Making sure the puff pastry dough is sugared on both sides, I roll both edges of the dough until they meet at the center. I place one of the halves on top of the other to make it a French heart, then I stick my pastry roll in the fridge to firm up a bit. Bree did that back at Calle Pastry Academy, and it made cutting her palmiers much easier.
I do the same thing to all the puff pastry dough Marta gave to me, then I take out my first palmier roll and begin cutting the cookie-like pastries. I sprinkle each individual palmier with sugar one last time to make sure there's enough to caramelize in the oven. When I've arranged an entire baking tray, I take my palmiers to the oven to be baked.
Dandre has an oven ready for me. He observes my handiwork and gives me a wink of approval before he puts the first batch in the oven. Marta stretches at her station before walking to mine. I quickly wipe my counter, knowing that Jean Pierre likes us to clean thoroughly as we go.
"Not bad," Marta admits. She gently touches a raw palmier and forces a half smile. "Of course, I can't fully approve them to be put out front until I've tasted one, but why don't you move on to éclairs."
My chest pounds like I've downed too many espressos. This is want I wanted. The chance to make and try everything. The opportunity to cook with the best kitchen brigade in Europe. Marta doesn't even blink as she pulls out the ingredients for the bakery's classic chocolate éclairs. Le Croissant has many other flavors including raspberry vanilla bean, and even salted-caramel.
"I'll have you make a test batch," Marta
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