Macarons: A Complete Guide, from Spotting One to Storing It

A macaron is a French confection: two thin shells made from almond flour, icing sugar and egg white, with cream, ganache (chocolate melted into hot cream) or a fruit filling between them. There is no wheat flour in the recipe; the shell's structure comes from almond flour plus whipped egg white — pastry chefs call that foam a meringue. Change the ratio of those two and the result changes with it: the shell either cracks or spreads flat. A properly baked macaron has a smooth, faintly glossy top and a small lacy rim underneath, known as the 'foot'. Bite into it and a fine crackle comes first, then a soft centre — that double sensation is the whole point of a macaron. Small as it is, the macaron is one of the most demanding items in a pastry kitchen: mixing time, resting the batter, oven temperature and the humidity in the room all show up in the result. Which is why the first question is usually the same one: why is such a small sweet so expensive? The answer starts a step earlier — with the confusion hiding in its own name.

In English the trap is a single letter: macaron and macaroon are two different sweets, and macaroni — the pasta — sits only a step away, so 'I'm ordering macarons' can be heard in more than one way. The pastry meant here is the French macaron, made in the Parisian style: two shells with a filling between them. A macaroon is something else entirely — a single, craggy-topped biscuit made from shredded coconut, with no filling at all. It looks nothing like a French macaron and tastes nothing like one either, yet the two words get mixed up constantly in search, and people end up staring at the wrong picture. Telling them apart is simple: a French macaron is always two smooth shells with a filling, usually in pastel colours. The coconut version is one piece, rough on top, and has nothing inside. Once that is clear, the next question gets more interesting: why does a macaron cost so much more than an ordinary biscuit of the same size?

Most of the answer sits in one ingredient: almond flour. It costs far more than wheat flour and nothing replaces it in a macaron; cut the amount and the shell loses its structure. The second factor is labour: shells are piped by hand, rested, baked, then paired up and filled one by one. The third is waste — shells that crack, come out without a foot or miss the right size never make it into a box, and that loss is part of the price. The filling isn't cheap either: real chocolate ganache, natural fruit purée or pistachio paste push the cost up noticeably. Finally there's packaging. A macaron breaks easily, so getting it to you intact takes a fitted tray, a rigid lid and a protective layer. In other words you are paying not only for the sweet, but for it arriving whole. How the price shifts with box size and contents is set out briefly in our questions about prices. Expensive, though, does not automatically mean good — so the next step is to stop looking at the price and learn to look at the macaron itself.

You don't need a trained palate to spot a good macaron — three seconds of looking will do. Start at the bottom edge of the shell: there should be a thin, slightly ruffled rim. Pastry chefs call it the 'foot' (pied in French), and it shows the batter rose properly in the oven. No foot means the batter was overmixed or the bake was off. Then look at the top: smooth, even, crack-free and faintly glossy; a dull, dusty surface says the drying stage went wrong. The macarons in one box should be close in size and height — a sign every shell was piped the same way. As for colour, pastel shades are a good sign; very bright, neon tones usually mean a lot of dye and add nothing to the taste. In the shop you can run one more quick check: the edges should look naturally wavy, not cut with a ruler. These are all outward signs; the real difference shows after the first bite, in the ratio of shell to filling.

A macaron succeeds or fails on the balance of three layers: shell, filling, shell. Too little filling and you're left with a dry, floury feel; too much and sugar swallows everything, blurring the flavours. Here's a rule worth remembering: the filling should take up roughly a third of the total height and reach the edges, rather than sitting like a dot in the middle. The order of the bite tells you the same thing — a fine crackle, then the soft almond layer, and only then the cream. If all you taste on the first bite is cream, the ratio is off. The type of filling sets the character: ganache is rich and lingers, fruit-based fillings are tart and light, pistachio and caramel push the sweetness up. A well-composed box balances those three characters so the fifth macaron is as interesting as the first. One more detail matters: when the filling is too cold, none of that balance comes through. Which is exactly how most macarons lose their flavour on day one — with the best of intentions.

Here's a belief you hear a lot: a macaron should be eaten straight from the oven, still warm. The opposite is true. Once filled, a macaron needs a night in the fridge — over those hours moisture from the cream moves into the shell, so the top layer stays thin and crisp while the inside softens. Pastry chefs call this maturing; a freshly filled macaron often tastes dry and hollow. The second common mistake is eating it straight out of the fridge. Cold hides the aroma of both almond and chocolate, and the flavour goes flat. The right move is to take the macarons out 15–20 minutes before serving and let them come to room temperature. You can test this today: take two macarons of the same flavour, eat one straight from the fridge and leave the other on a plate for 20 minutes. The difference is obvious enough that you'll never serve a cold macaron to a guest again. So the question that matters isn't 'when was it baked' but 'how was it kept' — and that comes down entirely to a few habits at home. None of them is difficult.

A macaron both loves moisture and fears it. Left out in the open, the shell draws in damp and softens; in a dry, air-conditioned room it does the reverse and turns brittle. The best place for it is a closed box or an airtight container. The fridge works, with one condition: keep it away from strong-smelling food. Almond and chocolate pick up aromas easily, and a box that has been sitting next to cheese or onions can taste spoiled long before it actually is. The freezer is an option too — the macaron is one of the few sweets that freezes well — but it should go in a sealed container rather than uncovered, and thaw slowly at room temperature. There's no single answer to how long you can keep them, because it depends on the filling: fruit-based creams change faster, chocolate ganache holds longer. The most reliable route is to ask the boutique for the recommended window for the box you bought. With storage settled, the nicest part is left: choosing the flavours.

Flavour is a matter of personal taste, but when you're buying a gift a few simple pointers make it easier. Chocolate and caramel are familiar and low-risk, so filling half the box with them makes sense for someone whose preferences you don't know. For anyone who likes a tart note there's raspberry, lemon, tangerine and orange; these cut the sweetness and go well with coffee. Vanilla and rose have a finer character, suited to a tea table; Turkish coffee is an interesting middle ground — a familiar taste in an unexpected form. For children, strawberry and chocolate are the easiest choice, while pistachio macarons are for people who like a rich, full flavour. If someone is after a deeper chocolate note, handmade premium chocolates are a direction of their own. The most practical approach is to keep 4–6 different flavours in one box: the person opening it finds their own favourite, and the box never feels monotonous. Once the flavours are settled, one question remains — the box itself.

The box is half of a macaron gift. For a small thank-you, a 6- or 8-piece size is plenty: it looks considered without putting the other person in an awkward position. For visiting someone's home, a birthday or a business meeting, boxes of 12 and 16 work better, because they can be shared. For engagements, anniversaries and special congratulations there are large gift boxes, along with options like the red rose box — a Divan design — which is a presentation piece in itself and needs no extra wrapping. You can look through all the sizes and flavour pairings on our macaron boxes and flavours page. Company orders follow a different logic: what matters there is that the boxes look identical, the names are spelled correctly and the presentation is consistent — a format covered separately under corporate gift boxes. One last detail: macarons should stay horizontal while being carried. Don't set the box on its side in the car or leave it by a hot window — a well-chosen box can't do its job if it travels badly.