Possibly the most famous food moment in all of literature is the bite of a small cake called a madeleine, dipped into a cup of lime flower tea, which occurs in Marcel Proust’s In Search of Lost Time (also known as Remembrance of Things Past):

No sooner had the warm liquid mixed with the crumbs touched my palate than a shudder ran through me and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary thing that was happening to me. An exquisite pleasure had invaded my senses, something isolated, detached, with no suggestion of its origin. And at once the vicissitudes of life had become indifferent to me, its disasters innocuous, its brevity illusory – this new sensation having had on me the effect which love has of filling me with a precious essence; or rather this essence was not in me it was me. … Whence did it come? What did it mean? How could I seize and apprehend it? … And suddenly the memory revealed itself. The taste was that of the little piece of madeleine which on Sunday mornings at Combray (because on those mornings I did not go out before mass), when I went to say good morning to her in her bedroom, my aunt Léonie used to give me, dipping it first in her own cup of tea or tisane. The sight of the little madeleine had recalled nothing to my mind before I tasted it. And all from my cup of tea.

Proust uses the little cake to contrast voluntary with involuntary memory and when the narrator uses taste and smell to show how memories of the past can involuntarily come flooding back. I think we all know the way that smell and taste can bring back vivid memories of the past. ‘Proust’s madeleine’ is a term still used today to refer to a sensory cue that triggers a memory.

A madeleine is a small sponge cake, in the shape of a shell. It can be flavoured with almond or with lemon. It originated in northeastern France, some time in the 18th century, but it is not known exactly why they have the shape and name they do. They could be connected with the Santiago de Compostela pilgrimage (the sign for a pilgrim is the shell of St Jacques), or there could have been a woman named Madeleine who made them for a noble family.

The little cakes are now so intimately connected with Proust that in the town of Illiers-Combray, the ‘Combray’ of his novel, two rival baking establishments claim that it was in their shop that the madeleine of Proust’s novel was first bought (the novel is intensely biographical, so it can be taken for granted that Proust himself experiences the gastronomic moment he gives to his narrator). The air of the little town is filled with the scent of freshly baked cakes and all the shops sell them as souvenirs.

Smell accounts for over 75% of what we are tasting, and the little cakes do smell, and taste, fabulous! So how about creating your very own ‘madeleine moment’ and cooking these gorgeous little cakes yourself?

75g butter, melted and cooled, plus extra to grease pan
75g of self-raising flour, sifted
2 eggs, lightly beaten
75g caster sugar
Zest of 1 lemon
Icing sugar, to dust

Heat oven to 220 degrees. Brush madeleine tin with melted butter, then with flour, shaking off any excess.

Whisk eggs and sugar and lemon zest, until pale and doubled in volume. Gently fold in the flour. Pour the butter around the edges of the bowl and fold in, making sure you keep as much volume as possible. Cover and chill for 50 minutes.

Fill each madeleine hole two-thirds full with mixture, then bake for 10-12 mins or until risen and golden. Allow to cool in the pan for a few minutes and then slip madeleines onto a rack to cool. Dust with icing sugar before serving.

Makes 12.