Macaron mêlée
Parisian institution Ladurée battles local darling Nadège for shoppers’ hearts and stomachs
Can one mall support two macaron stores?
Such is the question at Yorkdale Shopping Centre, where Parisian pastry institution Ladurée is now going meringue-to-meringue with local darling Nadège Patisserie.
There were lineups when Ladurée opened its first Toronto location in December. Nadège is a 90-second walk away. Both sell macarons, small almond meringue sandwiches in a range of flavours. Macarons typically cost around $3 a pop.
In answer, we tasted the confectionary competitors and learned that not all macarons are created equal. Here are our findings.
Karon: We’re back at the mall after lining up for an hour-and-a-half at the Cheesecake Factory in December. This time I asked you to come see which macarons you like the best. What did you know of these shops before we started eating?
Amy: Ladurée is assumed to be the gold standard. The Parisian patisserie has been making the modern sandwich version since 1930, while French-born Nadège Nourian opened her first eponymous Toronto shop in 2009. But you’re the one who’s baked macarons: You know what goes into them.
Karon: Attempted to bake. Macarons are notoriously fickle and almond flour is really expensive, which is why these aren’t cheap to buy. If the oven is too hot, the macarons easily burn. If the air is too humid, the macarons won’t rise and instead they become sad little pancakes. If the almonds aren’t ground fine enough, the shells look lumpy. If you don’t whip the egg whites right, the shells can also deflate.
I’ve thrown out many failed batches over the years, so I developed an appreciation for places that do them well. Amy: Clearly others share that appreciation, judging by the proliferation of macaron shops in Toronto over recent years, places like Butter Avenue and Anet Gesualdi. Karon: Biting into a macaron is like biting into flavoured air. That being said, if someone gave me a box of them, I’ll happily take it. A macaron is a fun bit of luxury to give as a gift.
It’s like a scented candle or a bath bomb — it’s pretty, it’ll perk up your day but no one really buys them for themselves. By the way, thanks for footing the bill. Amy: I disagree with your “flavoured air” comparison. A good macaron is puffy, yes, but also slightly chewy, with an eggshell crust atop nutty meringue.
But I didn’t truly appreciate the range of textures and flavours until we tried Nadège and Ladurée macarons side-by-side. Totally different animals. Even the shops are different, Ladurée with its Grand Budapest Hotel vibe and table service, versus modern-looking Nadège with self-service. What were your impressions of Ladurée? Karon: The Ladurée shop is beautiful and extremely Wes Anderson-esque — light green and millennial pink, lots of symmetry in the decor, a touch of old-timey elegance in the chandelier. I felt like I was on a film set, except I was the schlubby guy holding the boom mike while the other, well-dressed customers were the stars. Amy: I did notice fellow customers wearing fur and carrying designer handbags. It’s the kind of place to treat yourself, like the lady beside us eating a birthday breakfast of French toast with rosewater crème chantilly. The 14 flavours of macarons were also a treat, n’est-ce pas? Karon: The server let her pick a free birthday macaron at the end, which was a nice touch.
We ordered eight macarons, a lot of sugar for two people. I ordered the basic flavours: chocolate, salted caramel, raspberry and pistachio. You lived on the edge and got the more unconventional flavours. Amy: Yes, I tried coconut-lime (toasted coconut is so classy), passion fruit (true to life), strawberry marshmallow (it tasted like a child’s birthday party) and the disappointingly restrained black licorice. (I like licorice.) What did you think of yours? Karon: I took a bite of your licorice macaron and it didn’t taste like anything. I loved my picks, though — the chocolate was very rich and had that bittersweet balance, I could detect little seeds in the jam in the raspberry macaron so I know they used actual fruit, and the pistachio had a sweet nuttiness. The salted caramel was my favourite. I could taste the salt and they didn’t skimp on the gooey caramel filling. I think that was your favourite, too. Amy: Definitely! Then we walked down the hall to busy Nadège with its sleek white furniture and Big Band music playing. It had a greater crosssection of customers, from mothers with squirmy toddlers to mall managers discussing renovation plans. Did you miss Ladurée’s silver teapots and gold-rimmed china? Karon: Ladurée is the special occasion macaron shop. Customers took selfies and neatly arranged their food for the perfect Instagram shot (I was guilty of this too).
When we got to Nadège, I saw a man reading the newspaper and people eating croissant sandwiches. It is a lot more casual than Ladurée. Ladurée is the fancy place, Nadège is macarons for the people! It’s also less expensive, $2.60 for a macaron at Nadège versus $3.30 at Ladurée. Amy: While pretty, Nadège’s macarons were disappointing. Two special flavours for the Lunar New Year — oolong tea and red bean — were impossible to distinguish due to the paucity of filling.
Chocolate filling hijacked the promising sounding pear-ginger while grapefruit-cayenne tasted only of sugar. Some of the shells were like jelly inside while others were too chewy and possibly stale.
Turnover might not be as high here as at Ladurée, which has half the Nadège’s varieties and more buzz at the moment. How did Nadège strike you? Karon: I picked the same flavours as I did at Ladurée to do a proper com- parison. The chocolate, salted caramel and pistachio ones didn’t have flavours as intense as Ladurée’s.
Nadge’s raspberry was filled with caramel rather than jam and it was OK. I am disappointed. Nadège popularized macarons in the city and I always like to root for the local chefs. I still love the cakes though. Amy: Too bad the local product isn’t as good as the frozen macarons flown in from Switzerland, where Ladurée produces all its exports. (Macarons destined for France are made in Paris.) Ask me to come to Yorkdale anytime!