On our drive back to Sydney, exhausted but blissfully happy at having a great time at the Snow, we sought out a great place to have breakfast. The little country style shop near the house was closed this Monday morning so we drove towards Sydney through Tumut to find a bigger town. I was looking for something cute and blog worthy whilst everyone else was looking for a meal to fill their growling stomachs. Luckily we happened upon the Coach House.

Housed in a sandstone building, there is a front counter with hot pastries, pies and sausage rolls and walking through, an eating area with handy monogrammed green blankets to help ward off the cold. We grab a blanket each and settle in to examine the menu. Ordering and paying at the front I ask about certain items and choose the home made raisin bread and pancakes (told you I was hungry!). The breads, pies, sausage rolls and quiches are all made there daily.

Poached eggs and toast $9

It takes a while for our food and drinks to arrive and when they do, they arrive one by one. Anneli’s poached eggs arrives first. The wholemeal bread is delicious, with a lovely crunch to it- Anneli loves it so much that she enquires as to whether they sell it by the loaf. They do, but require a day’s notice. After a few more queries they offer her a frozen wholemeal loaf which she happily purchases ($4).

The Hot Chocolate with marshmallow, one of those items that the cold weather enhances so superbly is not very impressive, tasting like the base is made up of water and chocolate instead of milk and chocolate - weak and watery.

Cappucino $3.00

The cappucino suffers a similar fate, very weak and not particularly full flavoured.

Raisin toast $3.70

My fruit toast arrives, with that lovely crunch and full with plump raisins. I slather it with the butter and crunch away happily.

Pancakes with syrup (or honey) $6.80

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A rather fabulous dilemna to have is one that I had recently when we did a butter taste test with friends. We had purchased 13 fantastic European butters and after doing our taste test we had pretty much 13 cakes of butter minus the small amount we used for tasting. We tried packing up the butters for the taste testers and whilst they took a couple, it didn’t really diminish the pile of butter in the fridge. What better to do with good quality butter is a Gateau Breton, the very buttery shortbready biscuit cake originating from Brittany in France. And what better butter to use for it than Brittany butter. The Brittany butter was voted as some of the best in the lot by our tasters so I decided on its fate instantly. Isn’t that how butter wants to end up?

For some strange reason, slicing the diamond shapes doesn’t always result in the lines staying put and I’m not sure why that is (and neither is Nigella). As I was using another kitchen, one of someone who doesn’t cook, they didn’t have a pastry brush so I had to improvise and fashion myself a brush made out of baking paper so the glaze application wasn’t quite up to par. Nevertheless this eggy buttery cake is richly gorgeous and golden hued. It’s fantastic served with coffee in the afternoon or for a delicious end to a dinner.

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When I come to France, all I want to do is eat pastry. Should an immigration officer ask me my reason for entering France, I’ll simply say “To eat pastry”. Forget chocolate, I can always get good chocolate in Sydney, Tokyo, London or anywhere else I travel. However pastries like this are much harder to find. Poilâne is an institution, their sourdough bread of miche is said to be legendary. Using stone-ground flour, sea salt from Guérande and a wood-fired oven they set about conquering the world, one loaf at a time.

So a visit to Paris isn’t complete with a visit to their flagship store on the rue de cherche Midi. I have tried Poilâne bread before as it is available in London so we visited just to “take a perv” at the store and buy some pastries and some other breads. It’s an unusual set up. The shopfront is in a small street and hints not at the auspiciousness of the bakery. A stern looking unsmiling woman sits at the counter taking money while a group of older and younger woman flutter about backs to the wall watching customers and straightening displays of bread.

There is a small selection of breads and pastries and a sample box of their flower petal shaped butter cookies. The miche is sold by the weight and you can choose the amount of thinly sliced bread that you want. One woman offers me a sable biscuit from the box while I am browsing and a friendly young woman, a dead ringer for Natalie Portman offers her help. They package up the items for you, you don’t help yourself, and they wrap it and write the price on the paper bag and hand it to you and you then pay the stern madam behind the counter.

Le haul

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Like an abused pet that is shown signs of kindness, I approached macaron making again with a little nervousness and trepidation. I’d had a semi successful attempt with a Nigella recipe after a few terrible attempts with a Martha one so I was given a little encouragement. Not enough to make me cocky, far from it in fact. But enough to make me give the recipes a shy, sidelong look every now and again and even think to myself “that would be wonderful in a macaron” (although I’d never say that out loud, that would err on the cocky side, or at least confident side, which I am not on).

I even stocked up on supplies to make them, purchasing a 1kg bag of almond meal. This meant that I was either thinking of making multiple batches of macarons or making friands. As I don’t have a friand tin, all evidence points to the former. So urban-cavewoman style, I brought home my big bag of almond meal like a fresh kill and set it down on the counter proudly, like I had picked the almonds and ground them myself.

This is a fiddly cupcake, I’ll make no bones about it. You need to make the macaron to top it and then make the cupcake base and the rose cream and slice up berries and lychees to fill it and top with a rose petal. But the overall effect is quite spectacular. I made the macaron top first as I knew that if I wasn’t successful at that, then I wouldn’t bother making the rest. You see, I’m still slightly scarred by my failed attempts.

I suspect that Pierre Herme, the creator of the Ispahan would be quite horrified at the idea of his lauded creation being turned into something as cute and kitsch as a cupcake, indeed I saw not a single cupcake in all of my travels in Paris. However it’s not exactly like an Ispahan in that the base is a strawberry rose cupcake and the filling is buttercream and not a buttercream and custard creme anglaise combination (I only have so much patience). Also being Mid Winter in Sydney meant that only strawberries and some blueberries make an appearance so I had to improvise and use strawberries rather than raspberries.

I hope you will find these a fitting homage to the Ispahan, the taste of these are ambrosial and well worth the effort.

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Pierre Hermé needs no introduction to macaron lovers - I’ve yet to meet a food lover or blogger that doesn’t adore these delicate little sweet morsels from heaven. Interestingly, Pierre Hermé Paris stores began in Tokyo, where most things French will receive an appreciative audience. He has been called anything from “the Picasso of pastry ” (Vogue), “pastry provocateur” (Food & Wine), “an avant-garde pastry chef and a magician with tastes” (Paris-Match), “kitchen emperor” (New York Times), “The King of modern pâtisserie” (The Guardian). High praise indeed. So it was with curiousity and excitement that I visited the main store on the Rue de Bonaparte.

It seems that on the smallest and most inconspicuous of streets in Paris lies a treasure trove of fantastic artists or designers that specialise in food. Case in point, Pierre Hermé’s shop is on a smallish street, unannounced when you’d think they would be shouting it from the high rooftops of Paris. The only hint is the minimalist words “Pierre Hermé” and the crowd. And what a crowd it is, it’s a tight fit to get into this tiny little store, outfitted like a designer set from Ugly Betty where 5 men in designer black outfits behind the counter take your precious order. It’s a little extreme and makes me giggle, especially when I am served by a very serious young man with one of those Kylie Minogue stretch headbands. Even the staff at Louis Vuitton weren’t this serious.

Keeping in mind my splurge at Laduree the other day and for good measure, a parting reminder of it before he exits the crowded shop by my husband, I select comparatively few things. Just a Desire, a 2000 Feuilles and a selection of 7 macarons in a box. I could get them packed in a plastic bag but given that the counter guy has just tried to pick up three with his tongs only to have them crumble right in front of me, I ask for the box. It’s extra of course like all nice boxes here in Paris (grrr). I feel proud that I’ve only chosen a few things and my total is only €22.88.

2000 Feuilles €6.20

We don’t have long to go home and once we do I take them out of their boxes. As the weather was a warm 25 degrees today we have to act quickly, the 2000 Feuilles is on the verge of melting. In fact just seconds after the photos were taken, it collapsed. It doesn’t stop me from sticking my fork into it and plundering its many layers. It’s absolutely gorgeous, the pastry perfectly crispy despite the custard layers (how do they do this in Paris? Everywhere else it goes soggy) and the cream is a rich caramel cream with a chocolate crunch at the bottom. The bottom layer is brushed on the base with butter and sugar. The textures on this pastry are incredible and should you ever come face to face with this pastry, open your mouth and take a bite-I dare you to stop at just one forkful.

Desire €6.60

The Desire, a fitting name is a sponge filled with cream and raspberry jelly, a lovely light concoction but I have the feeling I should have chosen a more exotic offering.

Close up with focus on the Jasmin silver dusted macaron

Macarons 7 boxed for €10.00

The macarons are what made him famous so the flavours I tried were: Eden (Peach, saffron and apricot), Jasmin, Rose, caramel a la Fleur de Sel, Mosaic (Pistachio, cinnamon and griottines aka french morello cherries), grapefruit, Mogador (chocolate and passionfruit). The Eden with apricot is my definite favourite, it is so definitely apricot-ey followed by the delicate Jasmine and Mogador (chocolate and passionfruit). The trends for these gorgeous little things are edible metallic dusts, seen most distinctly on the Jasmin macaron.

I hate to be one of those people who always has a suggestion or always harks back to something “back home” but in Tokyo, one isn’t charged for getting something in a lovely box, and this box is also functional in that it preserves your goodies perfectly so that they can be consumed with both visual and palatable pleasure. There’s nothing worse than reaching home and finding that your food has been smashed to smithereens. It upsets me in fact, that I’ve paid a premium for something that looks perfect only to eat something that looks like it’s through the spin dryer. Another thing that they will also do in Tokyo, if you’ve got a long trip home, is put in a packet of dry ice which would have helped save the 2000 Feuilles should I have wanted to bring them to someone else’s house for dinner.

In any case, my husband, my very own Louis XIV, the man whose mantra is “quantity over quality” finds himself enraptured by the macarons. When someone brings up Pierre Hermé, he startles awake and says in a very impressed tone “that Pierre guy, he makes really good biscuits”.

Pierre Hermé

72 rue de Bonaparte, 6th arrondisement 75006 PARIS
Tel : +33 (1) 43 54 47 77
Open 7 days 10:00-19:00 (Saturdays open until 19:30)
http://www.pierreherme.com