Native Texan Liz Lanier opens Joy Macarons in Dallas’ Bishop Arts District. Hatch contributor Rebecca Marmaduke reports.
Earlier this week, baker Liz Lanier opened her dream bakery, Joy Macarons, in the heart of Oak Cliff’s BAD. Now, Liz Lanier is living out her very own LA Story—in North Oak Cliff.
While living in the illustrious Beverly Hills 90210 zip code some years back (she jokingly refers to her section as the “slum” area), Liz discovered the delicate, ethereal French confection called a macaron, not to be confused with the bucolic, coco-nutty macaroon. Although self-taught, Liz had always loved baking, and she made it her calling to master the exacting, time-consuming process of making macarons.
“The texture is what makes them so special,” said Liz. “They are feather-light and slightly crisp, and you can make them into any flavor you want.”
A native Texan from Fort Worth, when she returned to DFW after four years in Southern California, she found that there were no bakeries dedicated exclusively to her favorite cookie. But where there was absence, there was also opportunity, and thus, Joy Macarons was born.
She began out of her home, selling into other shops and the Dallas Farmers Market, eventually realizing enough success to open her first store front two days ago, just a tempting 10-minute walk from my own front door to the intersection of Tyler and Davis near the Bishop Arts District in Dallas.
When I caught up with Liz after a wonderful lunch à pied at Bolsa Mercado, Joy Macarons had been open all of two days and was already doing a steady, bustling business. It was easy to see why, with the gorgeous array of colorful delights lying seductively in the case: chocolate, almond, pistachio, raspberry, Italian creme, and more. I asked her if she had a personal favorite.
“It changes,” she said. “Right now, I’d have to say it’s the violet-black currant.”
Oh, wow, and she had me at “macaron”! I walked out with an assorted dozen of the dainties, topped off by two extra morsels of the violet-black currant flavor. I suspect if angels eat, these particular cookies are the main stay of their diet. As for me, I’m not so angelic—my two cookies didn’t even survive the three blocks home.
Joy Macarons, 839 W Davis St.
photos: Rebecca Marmaduke, except store exterior courtesy Joy Macarons via Facebook