A second patisserie just opened up near chez moi. The first, where I’ve been going since I moved in, is the Relax; this one is called Ibiza. (Seriously? And they have fluorescent palm trees outside too! It’s also a night-club.)
Clearly, in-depth research is required to ascertain their relative strengths and weaknesses. It’s a terrible job, but someone’s got to do it. Right now the Relax is a point ahead – their chaussons aux pommes are generally very good (although sometimes in the taxi drive to work, the pastry gets a bit gummy) and this morning, the Ibiza’s chausson aux ‘pommes’ proved to be full of eggy custard and (canned?) apricots. It sounds like something I would like, but I was too distressed by the shock to have any enthusiasm for it at all.
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