Parisian macarons are the food embodiment of the French “je ne sais quoi.” Much like the beauty of a young Parisienne, there’s a certain magic hidden within their simplicity.

My own infatuation for these sweet sandwiches began on the cobbled streets of Paris with a tiny box from the famed Gérard Mulot pastry shop. Somewhere between the salted caramel and strawberry poppy seed macarons, I fell in love.

According to pastry folklore, the cookies first appeared in 1533, when Catherine de Medici married Henry II and brought her Italian chefs with her to France. The cookies were traditionally eaten without a filling, as shells simply sandwiched together by heat when they came out of the oven. The macarons we know now, with fillings of all kinds, are a modern invention from the kitchen of the Parisian bakery Ladurée in the early 20th century.

Classic flavors include chocolate, raspberry, pistachio and salted caramel, but floral and exotic varieties range from orange blossom and rose to pineapple ginger and pink peppercorn. Savory macarons are even becoming popular again, such as saffron, wasabi, beet and sesame shells filled with chèvre, foie gras and hummus.

Like so many items on French pastry shop menus, macarons are tricky to make but so easy to enjoy. The French, masters of language that they are, even have a verb for making these cookies. “Macaronner” is the precise folding of the meringue (made from sugar and egg whites) and dry ingredients (almond flour and confectioner’s sugar) to achieve the perfect texture. One fold too many, and the show’s over. One fold too few, and you’ll end up with tasty dollops but not macarons.

A “good” macaron can be told by its sheen, obtained by piping the batter and allowing the rounds to form a “skin” before baking. The formation of the cookie’s foot — the ruffle around the edge of the base — is imperative, and it’s formed when the meringue rises in the oven and forces the skin up and out. The interior of the cookie should be moist and soft, with a light chew. Eating a macaron should feel as good as the word does rolling off your tongue.

Biased though I am — believing that the best macarons will always be found in the City of Light — I am confident that the whimsical macaron will wriggle its way into the hearts of pastry chefs and pastry lovers all over the world.

After all, macarons are only part food, and entirely French magique.