On Chocolate.

I was almost a stranger to chocolate when I was a boy. At the level of society in which I was born, chocolate came but twice a year – in the selection box at Christmas, and by way of Easter eggs at Easter. And even then it was of the standard pale, milky variety popularised by the likes of Messrs Cadbury, Fry and Mars for mass consumption.

And then, some time in the early nineties, my daughter introduced me to large, individual, hand-made Belgian chocolates. I had no idea that such exquisite comestibles existed – largely, I suppose, because I’d never noticed. It was quite a revelation, not least because I discovered that chocolate has its own hierarchy rather as wine, spirits, beer and cigars have.

And yet there’s something egalitarian about chocolate in spite of its claim to a hierarchy. Although the best chocolate is rather more expensive than the standard type, the consumption of quality chocolate somehow fails to lend itself to the expression of opulence and wealth. It simply serves the consumer’s possession of good taste, no matter what their social status.

I realised, too, that there’s something essentially Gallic about fine chocolates (and I use the plural advisedly since the Swiss and some South American countries might, not unreasonably, claim a position of pre-eminence regarding dark chocolate en-bloc as it were.)

This Christmas I received a box of small, cocoa-dusted Belgian truffles, and they are quite splendid. (If I were a woman I might use the term ‘heavenly.’ Since I’m not, I won’t, but it would seem appropriate nonetheless.) And here is what I only just realised is surprising:

We in the UK have become familiar with Belgian chocolates and their association with excellence, which maintains the Gallic theme already stated (and I hope I don’t offend any French person by extending the term to include their near neighbours.) And yet I don’t recall ever seeing any French chocolates on sale.

Is this because the French are selfish and decline to allow their fine confections beyond the borders? It would seem unlikely because they’re obviously happy to have their fine wines and Cognac travel around the globe. Is it because the Belgians are more adroit at marketing their product? Or is it because the British are remiss in failing to notice something of such quality sitting a short way across the water? It would be nice if some French person could enlighten me, but I don’t suppose they will.