Source: Old cookbook from the Edison Public Library
Makes 12

Ingredients: 
1 ¼ cup of flour
1 tsp baking powder
2 eggs
¾ cup of confectioners sugar
1 tbsp of lemon juice
Zest of one lemon (For extra sunshine, use a meyer lemon)
1 tbsp vanilla (per my notes in my recipe book “pure vanilla, no excuses”)
6 tbsp of butter and more for greasing the pan

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

Sift together the baking powder and the flour. (I have a sifter, but for years I just shook them around in the bowl and saw no difference in results.)

In another bowl, beat the eggs and confectioners sugar together until they form a thick shiny ribbon. If you have a hand mixer or a stand mixer, definitely use it. A whisk works here too, but will produce a less uniform “ribbon.” Fold the juice, zest and vanilla into this mixture. 

Melt the butter and allow it to cool. 

In four batches, fold in the flour and butter into the egg and sugar mixture. I like to continuously blend with the mixer here. Once it’s all combined the batter will be light and fluffy and glow! (Because it’s Easter! And because of the six tablespoons of butter...) 

Let the batter rest for ten minutes. Bask in its shininess. 

With wet hands, roll the batter into balls and press them into the greased pan, gently flattening them with your fingers or spoon them into a muffin tin. Bake for 10-12 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. Allow to cool and dust with more powdered sugar.

The Story Behind the Dish:

When I was in seventh grade at Woodrow Wilson Middle School in Edison, New Jersey, my French teacher announced that we were going to have a unit on food. We had to make a dish and bring it in to share. My mother took me to the library, and we got a French cookbook and poured through it in search of a recipe that would make sense to bring to school (AKA: not creme brulee). A veteran of girl scout bake offs, I flipped to the dessert section and was captivated by a beautiful drawing of perfect, shell-shaped madeleines. My mother and I went to the mall and paid a whopping $25 for a madeleine pan. I made my first batch of madeleines from that recipe. I don’t remember making them for class, but I can only imagine they were well received. Before returning the cookbook to the library, I wrote down the recipe in my little recipe book.

I still have that madeleine pan and that recipe book; in the 19 years since seventh grade I’ve made hundreds and hundreds of them. I’ve found them perfect for picnics, perfect for church bake sales, perfect for when someone talks you into hosting coffee hour, and truly perfect for dessert on Easter.

There are people who say Easter isn’t really a great food holiday, but I think they’re doing it wrong. I’ve been hosting Easter dinner at my house for a growing number of guests (always a mix of family and friends from church, which keeps the conversation interesting) and I love shopping for and cooking the dinner. Most years, my mother and I drive into NYC early in the morning on Holy Saturday, park downtown on the West Side, and take the subway up to Union Square Greenmarket. We unfold her granny cart and buy vegetables, wine, and maybe a kielbasa for our Easter Feast. Guests usually come over straight from our church’s 11:15 service and we eat and drink and bask in Easter joy in the tight quarters of my little apartment until well into the evening. This day of feasting generally requires a light dessert, so madeleines alongside berries with whipped cream are a perfect finale. They also make a great Easter Monday breakfast,as you survey the mess in your kitchen.

This year there was no trip to Greenmarket. My living room was not full of lively conversation and empty bottles of rose. I watched my church livestream, went for a walk around the neighborhood with my husband, planted some seeds in my garden and made a nice, but less than festive, dinner. There were no madeleines. Things feel scary in New Jersey and I really didn’t have it in me to bake, especially not a recipe that I associate with sharing with friends.

Since Easter is a season, there is time to make Easter madeleines. When I decided to write this piece I knew I had to actually bake a batch. I’ve made them so many times that I didn’t expect to really feel anything while making them. Much to my surprise, the process brought back, for a few moments, the familiar excitement that comes with having something that you can’t wait to share. Maybe I’ll drop some off on my neighbors’ porches who would have been Easter guests in previous years and share some of my joy. 

As the meal train coordinator at my church, I wish I could leave madeleines on all of your porches. Instead, I will give you my secret recipe. Don’t be intimidated. You don’t need a madeleine pan, a mini muffin tin works fine. Eat them for dessert after a feast and don’t think too hard about how much butter is in them. Eat one while you’re talking to the bird that you’re now friends with who is building a nest between the rafters of your porch. Eat one with a cup of tea after Compline. Let their sweetness remind you that Christ is risen and it’s Easter, whether it feels like it or not.