Yesterday, I described how Sir - in violation of common sense and international customs regulations - smuggled home from Japan six macarons from the esteemed Parisian patisseries Laduree and Dalloyau, both of which have outposts in Tokyo. The initial data from our comparative study yielded a slight advantage for the Dalloyau examples, but the most important judgements - those concerning taste and texture - had yet to be revealed.
Texture
Having examined and measured the macarons from all angles (see my previous post for the full results), Sir and I decided to bite the bullet, as it were, and give them a try. The test of the macaron is in the manger, I always say!
NB All macaron-testing was carried out with the gateaux at room temperature.
We eagerly cut the lemon (Laduree) and orange (Dalloyau) specimens in half. Of course, macarons' outer crusts tend to shatter upon impact, after which their insides tend to squish under the knife, so what with one thing or another the cross sections were a bit difficult to compare. Nonetheless, a few dissimilarities were obvious. The Laduree macaron (clearly crisper than its companion) had a distinct buttercream layer, easily discernible between its sandwiching meringues, whereas the Dalloyau buttercream seemed to have amalgamated with its meringue, resulting in less delineation between tiers.
Although not related to texture, it was clear at this point that the Laduree macaron had a more aromatic essence, with the scent of lemons hanging palpably in the air as its halves lay on the cutting board.
Drawn by the appetizing smell, we bit into the lemon macaron. At this juncture, we discovered it was filled with lemon curd rather than buttercream, which accounted for the lovely aroma. After an initial sensation of crispness as we bit through the outer shell - poof! - the macaron was gone. A bit nonplussed by this turn of events, we waited expectantly for something else to happen. Sure enough, we both detected bits not unlike fragments of cardboard as they began adhering themselves to our hard palates - a rather unwelcome turn of events, I'm sure readers will agree. Almonds that had been left too large? Almonds that objected to being transported coach rather than First Class? A result of the cakes being past their 'best by' date? Whatever the cause, it was a bit unpleasant, truth be told. We decided a second sample was required for verification purposes and repeated the exercise with a praline macaron. Same crispy layer, followed by an aching void, replaced with a cardboard finish.
We turned our attention to the orange macaron from Dalloyau. Its outer shell was far less crisp than the previous examples, with a more consistent texture all the way through the meringue. It definitely required chewing. Cakier that its counterparts, it was slightly sticky too, a consistency that we both preferred. We tested the almond one with the same result, finding it was even more pleasingly toothsome than the orange version.
Taste
Even allowing for the fact that four different flavours were represented, some observations and judgements about taste were possible.
In the Laduree macarons, the filling was the star. The lemon macaron tasted overwhelmingly of its curd filling; ditto with the praline buttercream. The meringues themselves, perhaps due to their short time on the tastebuds, were subtle to the point of not tasting like much of anything. The overwhelming impression was of crispiness followed by flavorful (possibly overpowering) creamy filling. There was no almond flavour detectable in either specimen.
The Dalloyau macarons, on the other hand, were all about almonds. There was an fresh, clean flavor and essence of almonds in both examples - to be fair, we might not have known the orange ones were supposed to be orange, had the color not given them away. But that's fine: I like almonds a lot.
The Verdict
Sir and I (given our own personal preferences and taste) were in agreement about our conclusions, declaring Dalloyau the winner in both the categories of texture and taste. Now, I accept that macaron-judging is by its nature a highly subjective affair. There are no doubt those of you who would prefer the crisp ethereal nature of the Laduree examples. What can I say? Neither of us wanted to eat more than one.
But here's the bad news. Quite honestly, we weren't ecstatic about any of them. They just weren't that fabulous. Sir went so far as to say that he preferred the almond/Cointreau macarons Toad and I had made the weekend before - which is sweet, but somewhat misguided. I think it's entirely possible they did not travel well and suffered some sort of transmogrification at high altitudes, although Sir had eaten one on the spot in Tokyo and declared it much the same. In addition, I felt they were too round, too perfect, and too mass-produced. Plus, they were too small for my liking: my formative macaron years were spent eating the three-inch ones, and that preference has stayed with me ever since.
Is it possible that these examples, purchased in Tokyo, are geared more to the Japanese market - much as Kit-Kat candy bars are different depending on where you buy them? Whatever the explanation, we felt a bit let down. There is a solution, or course - a trip to Paris and a mad macaron tour. I will be planning such an orgy in due course.
Next up: I decide I do not want to look at, taste, or think about macarons for the foreseeable future and try to come up with another gluten-free dessert idea for Thanksgiving dinner.
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