“And as soon as I had recognized the taste of the piece of madeleine soaked in her decoction of lime-blossom which my aunt used to give me (although I did not yet know and must long postpone the discovery of why this memory made me so happy) immediately the old grey house upon the street, where her room was, rose up like a stage set to attach itself to the little pavilion opening on to the garden which had been built out behind it for my parents (the isolated segment which until that moment had been all that I could see); and with the house the town, from morning to night and in all weathers, the Square where I used to be sent before lunch, the streets along which I used to run errands, the country roads we took when it was fine”
Marcel Proust
It surprised me how fond I am of madeleines. After seeing their photos on the internet, somehow I decided to fall head over heels for these bite-size cakes. In my mind I had madeleines on elaborate silverware served with a matching tea and coffee set. Ooh how posh. Struck by this out-of-the-blue love affair, I spent hours on online shopping sites looking for a madeleine pan. Ooh the price one pays to be cultured.
When the pan arrived, I proceeded to put it to work. The hardest part of the recipe was to let the batter rest for at least eight hours before scooping it into the mold. Luckily, the baking time was short, so I was able to control my fidgeting self. The moment the madeleines came out of the oven, my fantasy materialized. Oh la la. After tapping the pan on the kitchen counter to release the cakes out of their mold, I picked one up and observed it from every angle. The signature bump looked like the belly of a contented fat cat after a satisfying meal. The hot steam escaped, and a pleasant lemon aroma wafted towards me when I broke open the soft spongy cake. I did not wait for the matching tea and coffee set. I stood in my kitchen and savored every bite of the hot madeleine, finally understanding why I fell in love with it even before meeting it.
Madeleines remind me of the triangular sponge cakes (bánh bông lan) and crispy waffles (bánh tàn ông) my mom and aunt often bring home after their trip to the market in the morning. These are sold by street vendors who travel around on yokes (mostly women), with a charcoal stove at one end and batter and other miscellanies at the other, balanced over their small shoulders by a wooden pole. Some even have low plastic stools for customers to sit on while they sip coffee on the sidewalk. You’ll be surprised how much strength these women have, despite their petite figures. Once a secure place is found, they set up the stove and start cooking the batter in an enclosed clay mold, which gives the cakes distinct smokiness and accentuates the vanilla-eggy flavor. The mold is a round pan divided into little triangles for sponge cakes and small heart-shaped quadrants for waffles.
If you’re lucky enough, you’ll catch the fresh batch, not the ones pre-packed hanging on the carrying pole. I remember the excitement seeing one steamy hot pack of these little sponge cakes and waffles while helping my aunt unpack her shopping bag. That was our snack – our energy booster – after breakfast before diving into the kitchen to prepare lunch.
The madeleines that I’m making now are flavored with coconut and pandan leaves, the most common ingredients in Vietnamese desserts and my favorite to cook with. Canned coconut milk is easily found, while pandan leaves (frozen and fresh) are stocked in large Asian groceries stores. Once you get hold of them, buy a big bunch and store in the freezer. There is no need to defrost the leaves, just give them a quick rinse and then use them whole in cooking rice or chopped for easier juice extraction.
Unlike Proust, my aunt never made me madeleines. The only two things I have ever seen her bake were cassava cake and banana bread pudding. The only oven we had often sat idly in the carton box it came in, collecting dust before concluding its lifetime service with a rust infection.
Still, I have my (literal) madeleine moment, collectively painted by the effort of the women who work tirelessly, fanning the fire that transforms their sponge cakes and gives them the strength to shoulder the load of their world.
Cook’s notes:
- I find it harder to get a nice madeleine bump when baking at only one temperature (maybe it’s just my oven). Nevertheless, the madeleines still taste as good.
- Varying baking temperatures works better in creating the signature bump. The exact timing may differ depending on the oven.
- The leftover pandan juice can be kept in the fridge for one week before it starts losing its fragrance.
Adapted from Her World’s Fail-Proof Pandan Madeleines
What you’ll need (makes around 19 madeleines):
For the pandan extract:
70 gr chopped pandan leaves
1/4 cup water
For the madeleines
3 large eggs, room temperature
130 gr granulated sugar
2 tbsp pandan juice
175 gr all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/8 tsp salt
100 gr unsalted butter, melted
2 tbsp coconut milk
1/3 cup unsweetened desiccated coconut
Here’s how:
- In a blender, blend the pandan leaves with water and strain the mixture through a sieve. Set aside.
- In a mixing bowl, whisk egg, sugar and pandan juice until thick and frothy.
- Sift the flour, baking powder and salt and fold them all into the egg mixture. Slowly add the melted butter, coconut milk and desiccated coconut and fold gently to combine.
- Cover the batter and let it rest in the fridge for at least 8 hours.
- Butter and flour the madeleine pan and scoop in 1 tbsp of batter for each mold (depending on how large your mold is).
- Put the pan back in the fridge to cool while waiting for the oven to reach 430F.
- Once the oven is at 430F, put the tray in and lower the temperature to 380F, bake for 6 minutes.
- After 6 minutes, lower the temperature to 350F and continue baking for 6-7 minutes until the center of each madeleine is slightly set.
- Serve hot or warm with tea and coffee.
