Lilac Macarons with Rhubarb Ginger Buttercream

For the past few weeks my entire neighbourhood smells of lilacs. They are so abundant it seems like everyone’s yard has at least one shrub, and the public walkways are even lined with them. There are even a few feral shrubs that have self-seeded and are now growing along the highway and in some of the ditches. I usually do something each year to capture their beautiful aroma and create something sweet. In past years I’ve done flavoured sugar, and ice cream. This year it occurred to me that lilac would be a lovely macaron flavour.

Jump to the recipe.

I decided not to let the teeny issue of never having made macarons before stop me, and embarked on a few test batches. The general consensus seemed to be that while fiddly, macarons aren’t as difficult as their reputation would have you believe. I tried some basic ones with French meringue, but when I tried to make them that way with my lilac sugar it was too coarse and heavy to dissolve properly in the egg whites, so I decided to go with the Swiss meringue method, since that seemed to have a greater chance of getting everything dissolved. I bet that the Italian method would work really well here too and I might try that one next time.

The key thing I found with getting the texture right was making sure the mix was liquid enough before you finish the “macaronage” stage. My first few batches had some real problems with lumpy tops because I couldn’t get my mix to the right stage. I think I read so many times to “be careful not to overmix” that I was making the opposite problem. I also had to adjust some of the proportions and that helped me get the right consistency. Some of the recipes talked about a “honey” or “lava” consistency for the finished batter and I definitely found those images helpful. I think even this batch I just did could have been taken a little bit further, but they still ended up with fairly smooth tops.

I’m going to write this recipe as a bit of a choose-your-own-adventure where you can decide which meringue method works best for you. I will say that if you are using heavier sugar (like in this recipe) make sure you choose either Swiss or Italian or you’ll never end up with stiff peaks. I’m also going to suggest that you head on over to YouTube and watch some videos on your preferred meringue method (and a video of macaronage if you’ve never done these before) if you’re feeling a bit hesitant. There are very many different macaron methods, so which you use just depends on what you’re working with and what is most comfortable for you.

I’m not going into massive amounts of detail here with macaron technique, because I am not an expert. I think these macarons look pretty good, but there was still a bit of an issue I was having with hollow shells, so I am not the best resource when it comes to the technical side of things. I was such a fan of the flavours and overall result of these that I still wanted to share how I made them even if they weren’t technically perfect. I will share different tips and tricks that I found helpful as a beginner, though and I hope my explanations are complete enough. Please let me know in the comments if you have any questions!

The inspiration for the filling came from wanting to pair seasonal flavours together. I think that rhubarb and ginger are made for each other, and both of those pair so nicely with florals! Initially I thought I’d just fill it with a curd, but right before filling them I decided to change it up and use the curd in a buttercream. I think that was the right choice because the curd was just slightly too edgy for the lilacs as it was. The other thing I do when working with lilac is add a little bit of food dye. When you cook with lilac the delicate purples and pinks tend to shift to a sort of murky brown. I try to stay with natural colouring as much as possible when I’m cooking, but I also want my creations to be appetizing when I’m done with them too!

Lilac Macarons with Rhubarb Ginger Buttercream

Ingredients

For the Macaron Shells:

• 3 egg whites
• 90 g lilac sugar (can sub regular unflavoured sugar)
• 100 g finely ground almond flour
• 100 g icing sugar

For the Filling:

• 2 cups rhubarb
• 1 cup sugar
• 3 egg yolks
• 1 cup unsalted butter, plus three tablespoons
• 4 cups icing sugar
• 2 tbsp ground ginger

Instructions

For the Macaron Shells:

1. Sift together the almond flour and icing sugar for the macaron shells. Some recipes call for blitzing this mixture in a food processor and sifting again to make it even smoother, but I had no trouble using mine as is just sifting one or two times to remove the larger lumps.
2. For Swiss meringue (essential to do this or the Italian method if you are using heavy sugar like the lilac sugar) Heat a few inches of water to boiling in a pot large enough to hold the heatproof mixing bowl you are going to make your meringue in. Lightly whisk the egg whites and lilac sugar together and then put the bowl over the pot so that it is near to but not touching the boiling water. As this heats continue whisking the mixture until it starts getting very foamy. You want to make sure you’re getting all the sugar dissolved as you do this part. Don’t cook the eggs - you should be able to touch them with a finger and feel that they are warm but not too hot. At this point whisk the mixture on high speed until you reach glossy stiff peaks. One way to check if you are unsure is that if the bowl is turned upside down everything will stay put inside.
3. Fold your almond flour and icing sugar mixture into the meringue slowly. I like to do one third at a time. Continue folding until you have fully incorporated all the ingredients, and your mix has a honey-like texture. It is a little bit counterintuitive to beat so much air into the egg whites only to deflate it all at this stage, but it is necessary or you won’t be able to pipe it, or make nice smooth tops. Some recipes have you count the number of folds you do, but for me it was easier just to watch until the mix had the right texture - it slowly flowed and I could make a figure-eight with what was dripping off my spatula. You also want to gently fold in any gel food dye you are using at this point - ideally right before you are finished all your folds so you aren’t overmixing.
4. At this point preheat your oven to 300 degrees Fahrenheit. I know my oven runs cold, so I increased my temperature to 325 degrees.
5. Transfer the batter to a piping bag fitted with a larger circular tip. In my case I just chopped the end off a piping bag and did it with no tip because that was what I had on hand. Some of them weren’t perfect circles, but they were pretty close.
6. Pipe even circles onto a parchment or silicone lined baking tray. You can draw or print out a template if you like, but for me it was simple enough to freehand them. Pipe in a steady stream holding the bag completely vertically, and at the end give your piping bag a little twist to finish off the edge. If there is a little bit still sticking up it should settle down if your mixture was liquid enough.
7. Take your baking tray and bang it on the counter a few times to try to get rid of any air bubbles and to try to settle any irregularities you might have remaining on the surface of the shells.
8. Sprinkle a little more of the lilac sugar on the tops while the shells are still wet enough for it to stick. This is optional, but I think it looks beautiful and adds more of the lilac flavour and aroma to the finished macaron.
9. Leave the tray somewhere for about 30 minutes until the tops dry out - this is what creates the unique shape with the smooth top and frilly “feet”. Before they go in the oven the tops should be dry enough that touching them lightly with a finger leaves no impression.
10. Bake for about eight minutes, and then rotate the pan and bake for another seven. Bake times may vary with your oven, so watch them closely. You want them to be dry with no browning or caramelization.
11. After the shells have cooled put them in an airtight container in the fridge for a day or so (if you can be that patient) before filling them. They will age into an even nicer flavour, but if you are pressed for time they will still be delicious if you fill them right away.

For the Buttercream:

12. Chop rhubarb and stew with a little water on the stove. Add sugar and simmer until mixture is thick. Add egg yolks (remember to add a bit of hot to your eggs to temper them first) and cook on medium-low until thick. Don’t let this mixture boil. Press through a sieve and stir in three tablespoons unsalted butter. Allow to cool to room temperature or put in the fridge until you plan to make the buttercream.
13. Bring the rhubarb curd and the rest of the unsalted butter to room temperature and then cream them together in a stand mixer using the paddle attachment.
14. Add the powdered sugar and ground ginger (sifting out any large chunks beforehand) and continue to beat until there are no lumps. If your rhubarb for the curd was on the greener side add some gel food colouring (I did - remember that it’s better that food looks appetizing than being a stickler for absolutely no unnatural colouring!).
15. Pipe the buttercream in the centre of a macaron shell and sandwich it together with another. Ideally speaking each layer should be the same thickness as the others for a uniform and balanced look. I piped mine with the star shaped piping tip because that was all I had on hand so I tried to make it look unique. You can make yours look more traditional if you like, or experiment with whatever you think would look most beautiful!

June Harvest Totals

Asterisk denotes foraged item.

• Basil (purple): 2 g
• Beets (mixed): 57 g
• Calendula: 14 g
• Carrots (mixed): 91 g
• Chamomile: 50 g
• Dill: 36 g
• Haskap Berries: 160 g
• Hyssop: 39 g
• Kale (Red Russian): 76 g
• Lemon Balm: 7 g
• Mint (Mojito): 5 g
• Mint (Peppermint): 11 g
• Mint (Pineapple): 11 g
• *Orach: 115 g
• Orach: 96 g
• Pansies: 2 g
• Peas (Amish Snap): 84 g
• Raspberries: 15 g
• Rhubarb: 37 g
• Sage: 4 g
• Saskatoon Berries: 3147 g
• Spinach: 43 g
• Strawberries: 21 g
• Tarragon: 14 g
• Thyme: 2 g

Total: 4.2 kg

This June seemed to have less going on in the garden for some reason. Last year I got more peas, more rhubarb, I remembered to pick the wild asparagus, and just overall I got about two kilos more from the garden and the wild. I'm not sure what's going on with my rhubarb - I guess it's having an off year. Last year I harvested nearly a kilogram from it in June, but this year just a a few little stalks! I'm going to give it more fertilizer in the fall this year and see if that helps kickstart it for the spring. It also got pretty choked in with weeds, so maybe I didn't get to those in time.

I suspected the peas would be a smaller harvest this year, because I was very picky about the seed I was saving from the Amish Snap Peas I've been planting and saving for over 5 seasons now. They were starting to look quite a bit different from what I remember receiving from Seed Savers Exchange almost six years ago. I kept only 15 seeds from last year because I only wanted seeds from pods that produced at least three seeds per pod, and looked smooth and round - identical to what I received when I purchased them. I also held off on harvesting some of the most beautiful pods growing from them because I want to make sure that my seed is excellent for the years to come. I can't save seeds from many things because my garden is too small, but legumes, and a few other things are possible so I want to do the best job I can with stewarding those varieties.

Despite the lack of rhubarb, the berries this month have been fantastic. I've never seen saskatoons, or raspberries the size I've been picking this month. Raspberries were just beginning to ripen, but they were all enormous and so heavy the branches on my little bushes were all falling over! The wild saskatoons this here were also gigantic. Our bowl full of them looked more like cranberries or grapes. I have some cultivated saskatoons in my freezer from last year, and these are almost double their size, when it's usually the other way around!

There is also a lot of promise still out there in the garden. My tomato plants are getting big, and many have already set quite a bit of fruit which I wait for with great anticipation! I've got loads of sun chokes, the quinoa is about to flower, and the beans are climbing high! I also have a bed of the healthiest looking brassicas I've ever grown, so those are making me pretty happy each time I step out into the garden. All in all it's been a decent month for harvesting, but I look forward to the major bounty that is to come as summer reaches its fullness.

Wild Lettuce Soup

Wild lettuce is something I've been foraging this year that's new to me.  I noticed a whole bunch of it popping up last year, but only recognized what it was when it was about three feet tall, flowering, and too bitter to imagine eating.  This spring when the snow finally melted, I noticed several of these little rosettes, and it occurred to me that the leaves looked almost like skinny lettuce.  I threw a few photos up on one of the amazingly helpful Plant Identification groups on Facebook, and did a bit of googling, and realized that their resemblance to lettuce was because they were!  The following hints about how to identify wild lettuce are not comprehensive enough to guarantee what you've found.  Before eating any wild plant please do your research and make sure you know what you are eating.  There's no good reason to risk eating something that you are not 100% sure of.

This wild member of the lactuca family is the ancestor of the lettuce you see in the grocery store. You want to make sure you harvest it young, because otherwise it becomes too bitter.  Look for lush leaves coming up in a rosette, with somewhat wavy and possibly even slightly prickly edges. The midrib of each leaf should have some prickles forming on the back.  One of the most telltale signs is a milky sap when you break off a leaf.

Milky sap is usually an indicator that the plant is something you shouldn't be eating, but notable exceptions include wild lettuce, and also the dandelion.  These bitter spring greens are the perfect thing to eat after a winter of rich and heavy food.  I think that is one of the beautiful things about seasonal eating.  

Wild lettuce is, in fact, very bitter.  It goes even beyond most kales I've eaten, and some people will have a very hard time eating it.  While you could include it in your spring salad mix, I find it more palatable cooked.  The soup below was a really nice way to eat these greens, and the bitterness balanced out the richness of the other ingredients beautifully.  If you still find them too bitter try leaving it to eat until the next day.  When I ate the leftovers I found the flavour had completely mellowed and was even more delicious.

Wild Lettuce and Bacon Soup

If you still like the look of this recipe but can't find any wild lettuce, swap it out for kale or another strong and bitter green that you have on hand.

• One large onion
• Two cloves garlic
• 5 - 6 slices bacon
• 4 - 5 Yukon gold potatoes
• 2 - 3 cups wild lettuce
• 2 tbsp butter
• 2 cups milk
• Rosemary
• Basil
• Paprika
• Red Pepper Flakes
• Salt
• 1 tbsp lemon Juice

1. Melt the butter in the bottom of your pot, and as it heats mince the onion.  Sauté until translucent.  Mince the garlic and add.
2. Add the bacon and cook until crispy.  
3. While the bacon is cooking, chop the potatoes into small, bite sized pieces.  Add them into the pot and sauté briefly.
4. Cover everything with water and simmer until the potatoes are cooked.
5. Pour in milk, and add spices in the amounts that you like.  Bring back to temperature, and chop the wild lettuce.  Throw it in and put the lid on for a few minutes.  Once the greens are steamed slightly stir them in.  
6. When the lettuce is just wilted add the lemon juice and taste to see if you need to adjust your spices.  When you are happy with everything it is ready to enjoy!

Growing Pea Shoots and a Couple Ways to Eat Them

They are rising in popularity these days - and have long been popular with some cultures outside North America - but pea shoots still aren't something you find on your average grocery store shelf.  I've snipped a few here and there from the peas I've grown, but this year I tried growing them in flats kind of like you would with micro greens and I'm not sure why I didn't start doing this earlier!  

Growing pea shoots this way you have all the deliciousness of fresh peas without waiting until the pods are ready to harvest.  I can't believe I didn't start doing this earlier!  

The variety I used (linked above) is an heirloom pea that actually has beautiful red flowers if you let it grow longer.  It is known for its' strong, succulent tendrils which is why it is a great candidate for growing in this way. All you need to do is fill a flat tray like the seed starting tray in the photo below (linked above) almost to the top with a good quality potting soil suitable for growing vegetables (I used promix and I've linked it above as well although I will say I've seen it cheaper elsewhere).  Scatter the pea seeds on top.  You can crowd them in pretty closely because you're going to cut them when they are only a few inches high so you don't have to really worry about them competing for nutrients.  Cover them with a bit more soil, and then water thoroughly, but not to the point of creating a swamp.  

After you've got them planted the upkeep is really simple.  Just make sure to keep it moist without letting it get waterlogged.  You really won't need to water much as there is no drainage, but you do need to keep the seeds moist so that they actually sprout.  Once they are around six inches tall you can harvest them at any time, but don't let them get too much longer or they will be a bit tough.  Use these as you would use any other spring green - in salads, as part of a sandwich filling, in a frittata - you name it!  Here are a few things that I've been making recently to give you a few ideas.

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Pea Shoot Green Sauce

Ingredients

• Pea Shoots
• Green Garlic, or 1 Garlic Clove
• Lemon Juice
• Salt
• Olive Oil

Takes 15 min, serves 6.

Instructions

1. Put pea shoots, green garlic, juice of half a lemon (go easy here as it can be overpowering and you'll have a chance to add more later), teaspoon of salt (again, you'll have the chance to add more later if you need to), and enough olive oil to make it liquid enough to blend in a blender or food processor. Pea shoots are soft enough that a mortar and pestle would work as well, but it would take longer.
2. Blend until you like the consistency. I keep mine chunkier because I like to spread it on toast (adding a fried egg on top is an incredible idea as well).
3. Taste and add more salt, lemon juice, or olive oil until you like the taste and texture. Spread it on toast, use it as a dip, or put it on a burger - the options are endless!

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Ginger Miso Sautéed Pea Shoots

Ingredients

• Large Bunch of Pea Shoots (overesimate as they shrink down quite a bit with cooking)
• Small thumb of Ginger, minced
• 1 tsp Miso Paste
• Butter or Olive Oil for Sautéing

Takes 15 min, serves 2-4 Depending on the amount of pea shoots. Estimate 1 large handful per person..

Instructions

1. Heat the butter or oil in a frying pan on medium-low heat.
2. Whisk the ginger and miso into the butter until it blends into a sauce.
3. Arange sliced mozzarella and tomato on flatbread. Place back in oven until cheese is melted and bubbly.
4. Add the pea shoots and sauté until wilted, but not mushy.

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To support my blogging endeavours, this post contains affiliate links from which I receive a small commission if you make a purchase.  Every product linked here is one I have used personally and would recommend based on my experience.

Guest Post: Spring Foraging, by Melissa Keyser

I first connected with Melissa on Instagram, as a fellow gardener, homesteader, and lover of the outdoors. I’ve invited her here today to share some stories of her spring foraging aventures! Make sure to stop by her site, Quarter Moon Living, and say hello!  Melissa Keyser is a writer, naturalist, garden designer, blogger and educator. Growing up without electricity in the central coast mountains of California, she is a lifelong lover of nature and is passionate about self-sufficiency, sustainability, local food, and organic gardening. She encourages people to reconnect to the natural world through slow, simple, and seasonal living. On her blog, she shares recipes featuring truly seasonal produce, gardening tips, traditional food skills, and tips for general wellness. She holds a degree in Environmental Studies from University of California, Santa Cruz, and has completed additional studies in Horticulture and Landscape Design. Currently, she lives in Sacramento, California. 

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In my part of the world, in central California, our spring actually starts in the early winter. After a dry, hot and dormant period of our Mediterranean climate summers, the first rains of the season wake up our parched soils, bringing the earth back to life. And while the branches of the trees are still bare, almost overnight the hills and fields suddenly shift back to green. For me, this is when the spring foraging season for tender wild greens begin.

Elsewhere in the world, the seasons follow a more logical pattern. Spring starts when it’s supposed to, or at least, theoretically. This year, for so many, it seems that winter is stretching on forever. If this sounds like you, just know the Earth has not forgotten you, she is simply sleeping in. But in her slumber, she is gathering strength, and when she emerges, it will be with full force, her lands awashed with bounty.

It will soon be the time for spring foraging.

The first to appear are the stinging nettles.

Urtica dioica might be the best all-purpose wild green out there. They are highly medicinally, good to drink in tea or take a powdered form. The stems contain fibers that can be spun into thread or braided into cordage. They are also highly nutritious (in vitamin A, calcium, magnesium and iron) and, the big draw, they are also delicious!

But, remember, they have their name of stinging nettles for a reason! When harvesting, make sure to wear leather or rubber gloves. Once home, either blanch, steam or dry the greens, which will kill the sting.

Stinging nettles are native to Europe, but have now naturalized throughout most of the North America. Look for them in wet areas, alongside creeks, edges of damp woods, and areas with rich soil. The easiest way to identify them is to brush against them. You’ll know from their sharp sting! Otherwise, you can look for the hairs on the stems and the leaves. They have square stems and opposite leaves, with prominent veins and are shaped like an oblong heart, with the edges sharply toothed.

Nettles will continue to grow throughout the year, and you’ll find them standing tall by autumn, but they are best to eat when they are fresh and young. For the tenderest greens, start harvesting right after the emerge from the ground, snipping off the top few sets leaves. Once they start to flower, it’s best to pass them by.

I love to eat nettles in soup or folded in with cream and butter served over spaetzle. They also make a delicious ravioli filling! I add them to my tea during my monthly cycle to help replenish iron, and my husband drinks them in tea to help with his allergies.

As the days get longer, and the rains have come and the frost has subsided, the wild asparagus starts to appear.

Asparagus is herbaceous, meaning the plant dies back to the ground in the winter, and it’s near impossible to find asparagus spears growing green grass if you don’t know where to look. In my area, I start the process of foraging for asparagus in the fall.

The tender tips have long since grown tall, and are now a bush of fine foliage and the red berries containing the seeds stand out against the dark green of the leaves. Sometimes 6′ tall, these fronds leave no confusion that there is a healthy crown of asparagus growing there. By fall, the fronds start to die back, turning brown and dropping the berries (which are poisonous, so don’t eat!). This is when I make mental note, remembering where to look when spring arrives.

In North America, there is no actual wild asparagus. It’s native to Europe. Any that you find foraging is the same as the stuff you buy in the store or grow in your home garden, it’s simply escaped and is now growing in the wild. Feral, or perhaps rouge, asparagus.

You will find wild asparagus growing in the sun and close to (but not in) water. Look in drainage ditches, edges of marshes, or along river or stream edges. To harvest the asparagus, use a knife or clippers and cut the steam off right at or slightly below ground level. If you don’t have any equipment with you, you can dig into the soil with your fingers and snapped the spears off.

Choose spears that have tight tops and are firm. Asparagus grows fast, about an inch a day, and as the individual stalk starts to age and stretch up, the little triangular leafs tips start to branch out and become ‘looser’. You’ll want to avoid those!

Just like in the garden, asparagus crowns (that’s what the roots are called) will continue to produce spears for several weeks, so return often. Leave several spears to grow up. Otherwise, you may weaken or even kill the plant. If the spear emerges the width of a pencil or smaller, the plant is exhausting itself and you should let it be.

The Spring Foraging season is rounded off with the wild greens like dandelion, dock, chickweed, and my personal favorite, miner’s lettuce.

Miner’s lettuce, known in Latin as Claytonia perfoliata, gets its name from the miners of the California gold rush. They ate the wild green in order to prevent scurvy, which they learned from the native peoples. These are a great source of iron and vitamins A and C.

This was first wild green that I learned about as a child, because they are incredibly easy to identify. Just look for the round leaf. When they first emerge in the spring, they are somewhat spade-shaped, then later form the circle as they mature. Each plant grows in a clump of about 5 thin, smooth stems, each with the single round leaf on the top. The flower stalk emerges from the center of the circular leaf and is a delicate, nodding cluster of small, white blooms.

Once you find one, you’ll find many. They grow by reseeding and you’ll find entire hills and meadows filled with them. I spot it most frequently in woodland, forest or riparian ecosystems.

Miner’s lettuce has a delicate flavor and crisp texture. The leaves hold lots of water, and make it almost succulent, slightly like purslane. It lacks the acid that many other wild greens have, making it buttery, tender, and sweet. The stem, leaf, and flower are all edible, and you can enjoy at any stage in its growth cycle. However, they are best when harvested in the spring during cool and wet weather. I like to eat them while hiking as a trail snack, or bring the home and add to salads or use on a sandwich!