I think I mentioned getting over my chocolate addiction a couple columns ago. Well, I wholeheartedly take it back. And now I’m snootier than ever, thanks to Jean-Paul Hevin (G/F-1/F, 13 Lyndhurst Terrace, Central, 2851-0633).
After JPH (and I mean the man himself) showed us the path to chocolate enlightenment during a workshop he held at his new, cozy Lyndhurst Terrace digs a couple weeks ago, I’m starting to wonder how I ever got through my clueless adolescent days craving crude Coffee Crisp, Twix and Kit Kat bars instead. (Just kidding. I still love them.)
But as with anything edible or potable these days, it’s not enough to just enjoy the taste of something—you’ve got to know its freakin’ origins, too. So you like your coffee, huh—where did those beans come from? Now one’s gotta ask the same for chocolate. Where were those cocoa beans born? Because it makes a helluva lot of difference.
A chocolate bar from Caracas—safe and sound, just as you would imagine what a dark chocolate should taste like—is worlds apart from one hailing from Madagascar, full of acidity and citrus notes. Or, for that matter, one from Piura (banana-like), or Cuba (sometimes smoky). I’ll admit I was a tad skeptical before the tasting with Monsieur Hevin, thinking, “Here we go again with the snobification of yet another ingredient.” But lo and behold, by the end of the session I could actually appreciate the subtleties of each variety of chocolate we sampled—although I’m not sure if I should be happy or sad about that.
Already, I’ve taken a liking to the Madagascan variety. I can just see myself making a scene on my next chocolate sojourn: “You mean you only stock cocoa from South America? How can you call yourself a chocolate shop?!"