Love Ladurée

I go through these phases of having "favorites".  "Anthropologie is my favorite store," I'll gush.  "My favorite restaurant, like, ever, is Bluebird."  Of course, this varies accordingly.  And poor John is forced to endure and entertain my whims.  Rewind to last year ...

"What's that?" I point to a small bag.  "It's for youuuu," John coos.  "Ooh, where's it from?"  I say, as I peek inside.  "Your favorite storeeee," he sings.  "BANANA REPUBLIC???"  I scream.  "No," he says, and his face drops as I open a gorgeous Ted Baker bag with a tissue-paper wrapped leather wallet inside.  He looks crestfallen, while I look delighted at my gift.  "I thought Ted Baker was your favorite," he says, falteringly.  I think for a moment.  "Did I say that?  Oh, maybe I did.  But Banana is my favorite now.  Thanks, though!"  I say, clutching my new wallet and giving him a hug.  "I wanted to get you something from your favorite store though," he whines.  I roll my eyes.  "I change my mind sometimes."  

Ladurée is one of such "favorites" (I'd actually forgotten its existence until nearly mowing over a woman with one of their rather large signature green bags on her arm outside my office).  Basically, it's a luxury French macaroon shop based in Paris, with a few locations in London, namely one in Burlington Arcade near Regent Street, which used to cause my heart to palipitate (I've moved on to truffles now).  Their macaroons are certainly beautiful to look at - bright and pastel hues sandwiching color coordinated puffs of cream in flavors such as blackcurrant violet and caramel salted butter - but it's the packaging that makes my heart throb: the tissue paper, the carefully folded signature box, the sticker ... and finally ... the bag.

If you're going to visit a friend (a really, really good friend, that is) or celebrating a birthday, I would definitely swing by Ladurée - but be warned, it's not cheap.  After all, you're eating art.

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