Meringue Cookies

Ok, perhaps not the prettiest meringues, but also not the least tasty.

I have been told on multiple occasions by a friend I trust that meringue cookies are some of the greatest culinary creations on the planet, as they combine the sugary goodness of pure sucrose with a pleasantly crisp texture that melts in your mouth upon hitting saliva. Combine these traits with the fact that they're actually not horrible for you (by cookie standards, anyway) since they contain mostly air and protein and you've got a recipe for a dessert that won't make you sick from overindulging.

That said, my previous experiments with meringues (which have thankfully not been documented) produced less-than-stellar (and in my opinion, less-than-edible) results, and the treats remain something that seems to stymie my culinary adventures. Many cooks have their various versions of kryptonite, be it cheesecake, soufflés, fried dishes, or edible brussels sprouts (admittedly, that last one is impossible), we all come across stubling blocks in our advancements in the kitchen. Of course, that's part of the appeal; what fun would it be if every dish came out perfect? ... Well, that'd probably be tasty, but then I would also know I'm in the wrong industry. Nonetheless, these little challenges can and must be attempted time and time again in order to produce the perfection that every chef strives for until they actually reach it.

This incarnation of my meringues actually didn't come out too poorly; my previous attempts were ruined by the fact that I generated cookies that were far too large for such a light texture and the flavor balance was off. In this attempt, I stuck to the recipe (which I heisted and adapted only slightly from The Kitchn) in hopes of finding a happy base camp from which to start in my next attempt.

Meringue Cookies
Ingredients:
3 egg whites, at room temperature
1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar
3/4 cup fine white sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla

Procedure:
Preheat oven to 300F
1) Place the egg whites in a large mixing bowl (ideally, the bowl of the stand mixer you will be using to whip the things into a froth) and mix them with a whisk for a few moments to get some starter bubbles going. I prefer starting out by hand as opposed to using the mixer at this point, but your mileage may vary.


2) Start beating the whites on medium speed and add in the cream of tartar. Continue mixing until something resembling sea foam starts to form.

I was actually rather proud of this image, as it was taken when the mixer was in motion. I was very surprised the beater came out clearly.

Note: The cream of tartar raises the acidity of the mixture, which helps sustain the bubbles produced. It's worth noting that other recipes similar to meringues (such as pavlova) call for vinegar instead, which has a similar effect.

3) When it reaches the "sea foam" stage, start slowly drizzling in the sugar. I used a 1/4c to scoop and then gradually poured it in; the idea is to ensure that the sugar dissolves gradually and completely, as if you dump it all in at once it can come out somewhat grainy.

Note that since the last image, the mixture has just about doubled in volume.

4) After adding the sugar, turn the mixer to high and whip away until the foam has a glossy finish. You'll know it is done when it reaches the "stiff peaks" stage, or when it will stand up on itself (see below).

The mixture should resemble very shiny whipped cream, depending on how you like your cream.

Note: The stiff peaks term refers to a common means of describing meringue structures. To determine the meringue's peak status, scoop the beater into it and pull away--a point will form on the end. Turn the beater upside-down to determine the level of the peaks: soft peaks means the foam bends to form almost a mound, medium peaks it bends but leaves a loop of air underneath, and stiff peaks means the peak remains a point (or slightly bent).

At this point, you can certainly scoop spoonfuls of the meringue onto a silicone mat (or very very well greased baking sheet--these things can stick!) using a spoon if desired. However, many recipes call for using a piping bag and making very pretty formations with the aid of a piping tip set. Now, I have neither of those, but the spoon method has never paid off for me either, so I had to get creative:

The ghetto-fabulous piping set, for cooks who don't want to spend money. I snipped off the corner to allow piping.

5) Use your newly-created piping bag to squeeze out small piles of meringue (imagery obviously very much intended, judging by my photo below). Make sure the piles don't get too large, as the bigger ones will simply crumble under their own weight during cooling.

Aww, aren't they cute? I added some mint leaves to a dozen or so simply out of curiosity.

6) Bake at 300F for approximately 2 hours; the idea is to bake all the moisture out of the cookies, as any remaining water can cause a cookie collapse during cooling.

Lessons Learned:
As an afterthought, I would recommend allowing the cookies to cool in the oven for at least an hour after baking; this will aid drying somewhat and allowing the steam inside to settle slowly (as opposed to cooling rapidly outside the oven) could help the cookies retain their structure. I haven't tested this, but I wish I had this time around, as some of the meringues still had moisture left and the ones with mint leaves collapsed a bit. That said, the mint lent an interesting flavor to the end result; I wouldn't try it again, but it was worth a shot.

A final note for the recipe: I don't think I like meringues. They tend to be a bit too sweet for my tastes, and to be honest, I like more substance from my cookies. But they're at least easy to make!