If you're like me, you long ago dismissed the macarons fad as ditzy/decorative, and you mentally photoshop them out of your landscape. These fastidious little buttons of chicly-flavored whimsy, one quickly learns, offer little deep deliciousness or satisfaction. Give me a hunk of frickin' marble poundcake any day.
But among the forgotten tenets of Chowhoundism is that deliciousness is deliciousness. A great version of a crap thing is nonetheless great and deserving of complete respect. With that in mind, I'd urge you to drop everything and go directly to Ladurée Madison Ave (864 Madison Ave at 71st...though there are branches I haven't tried called Ladurée The Plaza and Ladurée SoHo, whose location you'll never guess). Bring money. And experience the revelation of what these damned things can be in their platonic form.
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