Ou sont les exposants, expositions, et concours?
When I ask people where they figure the world's largest chocolate festival is held, France is rarely their first guess. Tellingly, some guess Brazil or Peru, figuring that it ought to be in a producer, rather than consumer, country. If only, and maybe one day. Others offer Switzerland or Belgium, which are great guesses, but, presuming the industry wants to continue to project chocolate as elementally romantic, sensual, and, no doubt, sexy, then neither Brussels nor Bern, Bruges nor Basel would do. Disagree? Can you name me a distinguished Swiss or Belgian romantic composer? Thought not. Industrial capacity be damned, all you need is love!
So, then, we're really looking at France and Italy as potential host countries. What distinguishes them? Perhaps France has an even more absurd number of chocolatiers and patisseries than Italy, such that they can populate the entire upper floor of what looks like a repurposed airplane hangar, as per the floor plan below. Neither could claim to be more fashion focused than the other, and so it is that it wouldn't feel remotely weird in either locale to give prime floorspace to "Cacao Show" where models wearing what might really be chocolate stilettos strut their stuff. What matters, then, is language and history: host it in a country with the same national language as, and ample flights to and from, Cote d'Ivoire, by far the world's largest cacao-growing nation, thereby allowing both Ivorian government representatives and, crucially, Ivorian craft chocolate makers to attend.
Of these French makers, Pralus is one of the best-known. Eye-catching yet understated branding is a tough balance to strike, and they manage it with their instantly recognizable single origin "Pyramide des Tropiques" and similarly stripy bag. My main question: does this not look a hell of a lot more like a cube or a block than a pyramide? I guess the Praluline is so damn tasty that no one really cares about th... on no, wait, they STACK the blocks to make a pyramid? That's cheating, but I'm okay with it. Brendan and I just conducted a taste test of their colorful origins: Tanzania easily takes the pastry.
Craft makers supported by Nat'l & int'l orgs
8 Degrees is enormously fortunate that our local chocolate show, the Northwest Chocolate Festival in Seattle, is one of the best, if not the best, in the US. In my estimation, if Seattle could learn one thing from Paris, it's the utility of collaborating with national and multinational trade and export promotion boards to bring even more small international chocolate makers to the show. The International Trade Centre's relationship with Jamaican producers is a case in point: Likkle More, One One Cacao, and Pure Chocolate Jamaica were able to exhibit together and present a united Jamaica-takes-chocolate-seriously front, which other small and less well-known chocolate producing countries could emulate.
As for national promotion boards, Cote d'Ivoire and Peru went gonzo. The French love a good metaphor, and the Ivorian booth was at the very center of the exhibition area. I already noted another Ivorian privilege, namely to pump beats roughly thirty minutes out of every hour. Surely it was made known to the Ghanaians, Peruvians, and Ecuadorians that this privilege would be exclusive to Cote d'Ivoire.
I didn't get a great picture of the traditionally-dressed Peruvian dance troupe that made several appearances throughout the festival, but more interesting, regardless, is what appears to be a national Peru-produces-superfoods campaign from the Peruvian Export and Tourism Promotion Board. What the hell is a superfood, anyways? We're glad that chocolate seems to be one.
This seems as good a forum as any to note 8 Degrees' philosophical support of nose-to-tail eating, which is relevant, of course, as Paris is home not just to Le Salon, but to Au Pied de Cochon, a quasi-mythical restaurant of enormous importance to world gastronomy and to my sense of self. This temple to trotters must not be confused with the identically named Au Pied de Cochon in Montreal, the site of one of Tony Bourdain's most gluttonous TV performances featuring slabs of foie gras, both terrine and whole liver, so thick they could choke a... never mind. Back to feet! Wrapped in cheesecloth and poached for a short eternity in bouillon, rolled in melted butter and breadcrumbs and "grilled" to crispy perfection, and served alongside a boat of bearnaise, the French foot may come even closer to porcine pedal perfection than the Taiwanese and Singaporean conceptions I spent so much of my 20s enjoying. But wait! What's that on the menu?? The... could it be... the Temptation of St. Anthony, Patron of the Butchers!? Time to level up. Tail, snout, ear, and foot, the quadrumvirate of collagen-rich, weirdly and wonderfully textured piggy outer bits. For dessert? If I'm being honest, I had a pig-shaped vacherin at the restaurant. But back at my friend's apartment? Chocolate.
