Skip to content
Baking

Classic Madeleines

Classic Madeleines

My first tray of madeleines came out of the pan looking like shell-printed coins. Flat on top, pretty on the bottom, no hump at all. I had followed a perfectly reasonable recipe. What I had not done was chill the batter, because the instruction said one hour and I had about forty minutes and a friend already parking outside.

The second tray humped beautifully and then refused to leave the pan. I had greased the moulds with soft butter straight from the packet and skipped the flour dusting entirely, and I spent ten minutes afterwards picking broken shells out with the handle of a teaspoon.

Batch three worked. It worked because I stopped thinking of madeleines as a fast bake and started thinking of them as a cold-batter bake that happens to finish fast. Twenty minutes of mixing, an hour of leaving it alone, twelve minutes in a hot oven.

Prep: 20 mins (plus 1 hour chilling)   Cook: 12 mins   Makes: 18 madeleines

Where My First Three Batches Went Wrong

The hump is not decoration. It is the visible proof that the outside of the batter set before the middle finished expanding, and it only happens when cold batter meets a hot mould. Chilled batter is stiff, so it holds its dome shape in the centre of the shell while the thin edges cook and firm up in the first two or three minutes. The middle then has nowhere to go but up.

Forty minutes in the fridge got me a faint swell. A full hour got me a proper dome. Overnight, which I tried out of laziness the following week, gave me the tallest hump of the lot and a slightly denser crumb, which I actually prefer with tea.

The sticking problem was simpler and more annoying. Soft butter pools in the ridges of the shell and then bakes into a glue. What works is melted butter brushed on with a pastry brush so it reaches into every ridge, then a spoonful of flour tipped in and rolled around until the whole mould is chalky, then the pan turned upside down and whacked over the sink to shed the excess. If you can still see shiny butter anywhere, you have not used enough flour.

My third mistake took longer to notice. I was folding the melted butter in while it was still hot, which deflated the whipped eggs. Now I melt it first, before anything else, so it has twenty minutes to cool while I do the rest.

What I Do Differently Now

Four things, in order of how much they changed the result.

I whisk the eggs and sugar for a full four minutes by hand, timed, not eyeballed. The mixture should fall off the whisk in a ribbon that sits on the surface for two or three seconds before sinking. Pale yellow is not enough; you want it almost white.

I chill the batter and the pan. The buttered, floured pan goes into the fridge alongside the bowl. A cold mould buys a few extra seconds of contrast against a 375°F oven, and on my old dark pan it made a visible difference to the dome.

I spoon the batter in and leave it alone. About one level tablespoon per mould, dropped into the middle, filling maybe three-quarters. It looks wrong. It looks like nowhere near enough. It spreads to the edges within the first minute of baking, and if you help it along with the back of a spoon you flatten the mound you spent an hour chilling.

I unmould them the second they come out. Not after two minutes on the rack, not after I have found the tongs. Straight out of the oven, tip the pan over a wire rack and rap the edge of it once against the counter, and they drop out. Left to cool in the pan they steam themselves soft on the shell side and lose the crisp edge that makes them worth making.

The lemon zest is the part I would defend hardest. Plain vanilla madeleines taste like slightly boring sponge. The zest of one whole lemon, rubbed into the sugar with my fingertips for a few seconds before the eggs go in, is what makes them taste like something rather than like a vehicle for butter. If you like that citrus-and-butter direction, the same trick carries a lemon drizzle cake and it is the reason I now zest before I juice, always.

Ingredients

  • 2 large eggs — room temperature, or they will not whip to volume
  • 1/2 cup granulated sugar — rub the lemon zest into this first
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • Zest of 1 lemon — the whole lemon, finely grated, no white pith
  • 1 cup all-purpose flour — sifted
  • 1 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 1/2 cup unsalted butter — melted and cooled to barely warm, plus extra melted butter for the moulds
  • 2 tablespoons flour — for dusting the pan
  • Powdered sugar — optional, for dusting at the table

Instructions

  1. Melt the butter first and set it aside to cool while you work. It should be barely warm to a fingertip by the time you need it.
  2. Rub the lemon zest into the granulated sugar with your fingertips until the sugar looks damp and smells strongly of lemon, about 30 seconds.
  3. Add the eggs and whisk hard for a full 4 minutes, until the mixture is pale, thick, and leaves a ribbon on the surface that holds for 2 to 3 seconds. Whisk in the vanilla.
  4. Sift the flour, baking powder, and salt over the top and fold them in with a spatula until you can no longer see dry flour. Stop there.
  5. Pour in the cooled butter in two additions, folding gently after each, until the batter is smooth and glossy and holds a soft mound on the spatula.
  6. Cover the bowl and refrigerate for at least 1 hour, or overnight.
  7. Brush the madeleine moulds thoroughly with melted butter, getting into every ridge, then dust with flour, roll it around, and knock out the excess. Chill the pan alongside the batter for at least 20 minutes.
  8. Heat the oven to 375°F. Spoon about 1 level tablespoon of cold batter into the centre of each mould, roughly three-quarters full. Do not spread it.
  9. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until the edges are golden brown and the centre dome springs back when pressed lightly.
  10. Tip the pan over a wire rack immediately, rapping the edge once against the counter to release them. Dust with powdered sugar just before serving.

What I’d Change Next Time

I would cut the baking powder to 3/4 teaspoon. A whole teaspoon in one cup of flour is generous, and I think it does some of the work the chilled batter and the whipped eggs should be doing on their own. The batches where I used slightly less had a tighter, more sponge-like crumb and the hump was no smaller. That is a mild heresy in madeleine circles and you are welcome to disagree with it.

I would brown the butter more often than I do. Ten extra minutes at the stove, cooking the melted butter until the milk solids at the bottom turn the colour of weak tea, and the whole tray tastes nuttier. The catch is that browning drives off water, so you lose about a tablespoon of volume and the crumb comes out very slightly drier. Worth it for a plate you are serving to people, not worth it on a Tuesday.

The thing I have stopped doing is making them ahead. Madeleines are genuinely excellent for about four hours and merely fine after that, which is why French bakeries sell them by the bag and not by the box. If I need something for a tea plate that will still be good tomorrow, I make buttery shortbread instead and keep the madeleines for the day itself.

One last practical note, since it cost me a pan: do not put a nonstick madeleine tray through the dishwasher. Mine came out with a dull patch in two moulds and those two have stuck ever since.

If you want the batter to earn its hour in the fridge twice over, make the full quantity and bake half. Keep the rest covered for up to two days and bake a fresh six on the second afternoon. That is the same reasoning behind keeping pastry cream ready for a fresh fruit tart, or choux for chocolate eclairs: the effort is front-loaded, and the second sitting costs almost nothing.