A gift from the chocolate artist

My friend Silvia has been spending some quality time à Paris this year. I'm jealous. I can't believe I haven't been since December of last year. It's the longest I've gone since moving back to New York.

Needless to say, when she brought me back a box of Patrick Roger chocolates, I melted. That turquoise packaging is as iconic to Paris as Tiffany's blue is here to New York.

He calls himself a chocolate artist for the dazzling gem-like bonbons he creates, to say nothing of the full-scale chocolate sculptures in his boutique vitrines. But since—in my hands, anyway—his chocolate art is fleeting, it's his exquisite packaging that is the eternal art.

Une question: Traveing to Paris in May

Bonjour Amy!

I'm writing to ask advice for traveling to Paris in May. This year May 8, Victoire Day, is a Wednesday, and Ascension Day is Thursday, May 9.  My friend and I were planning to go to Paris May 2 to May 10, but now I'm thinking we should change the dates.  We have not booked flights yet. Will we have to scrounge to find restaurants and patisseries and boulangeries that are open? If we switch to early June, will everything be so much more crowded?
Merci from a fellow chocoholic,
Dawn in Colorado

Salut, Dawn! 

You know, I hate to say it but I do think you'd be better off bumping your trip to June (or late May if that's preferable). May is riddled with holidays and, as you suspected, many boutiques, restaurants and, worst of all, boulangeries, shutter. Of course not the whole city is shut down, but if you have the flexibility, you'd be happier with seven full days to romp wherever your hearts and stomachs take you, rather than passing a whole day in the park because nothing is open.

And in terms of crowds in June, I don't think it will make a big difference. July and August, sure, get pretty touristy, but June is actually a wonderful time to visit. Good temps and long, long days of sunshine—which make it that much easier to squeeze in an extra chocolate “gouter” (or two).

Bon voyage!
Amy

Follow the chocolate

Back in 2006, while at the fantastic bookstore RJ Julia in Madison, CT, I stumbled upon a little pink paperback called The Chocolate Connoisseur. Within days, I ate up Chloé Doutre-Roussel’s story about her life in the chocolate world.

While at the Salon du Chocolat in 2010, I was giddy—not only because I was on a sugar high—but because I got to meet my chocolate idol in person. 

And then right before I left Paris in early 2011, I sat and visited with Chloé at her short-lived salon in the Marais and heard her discuss the finer points of developing and appreciating this “food of the gods.”

Since then, Chloé shuttered her salon and has been circling the globe (or at least South America), visiting cacao plantations and chocolate manufactures (pesky little job obligations). She’s also offering tours via Localers.com, and I recently had the opportunity to “talk” with her about chocolate in Paris.

An American is going to Paris for the first time. Who are some don’t-miss chocolatiers they should visit?

First on the list would be Patrick Roger because he’s an artist. He uses chocolate to express his creativity. His shops also reflect this creativity—hey are like small universes, decorated with elaborate chocolate sculptures. Entering one of his shops is like stepping into Alice in Wonderland. He produces his own marzipan, praline, and jams. The ingredients all come from his country farm.

Another chocolatier not to be missed is Pierre Hermé who goes by the nickname: “Picasso of Patisserie.”  His whole approach to chocolate making is unique. He approaches it like one does a cake—with each layer of the structure he adds a different aroma.  His combination of flavors is so original.

I know you’re a purist, but what are some of your personal favorite bonbons?

I like a plain ganache, but the chocolate needs to be top quality. I also like a plain praline bar made with top quality nuts.

What’s your guilty pleasure in Paris?

I love to go to the cheese shops. Goat’s cheese with pain Poilâne is my guilty pleasure.  

You offer tours in Paris. Tell us a little about them.

I start my tour with an informal class where I explain how chocolate is made: how it can vary in quality, how to identify good quality with your eye, and lastly the sort of things to look out for when you taste chocolate. What I bring to this is my expertise and most importantly my enthusiasm, which I would say is infectious!

When we visit the chocolate shops, you will be invited to try and spot the difference between a chocolate, praline, or hazelnut. Spotting the quality of a chocolate will also be a skill I am keen to teach; participants should be able to tell if the chocolate has been frozen for instance. My aim is to change the way people think about chocolate. Generally people don’t think about what they are buying; with me, they cross a line. After a tour they should pay attention to what they are buying,

What do you like most about The City of Light (and Dark Chocolate)?

I enjoy Paris when I approach the city like a tourist. I love a good quality dark chocolate. I think eating good food that makes you happy is so important!

Moving beyond the boundaries of Paris, what nation are you most excited about right now, in terms of cacao production and/or chocolate bar production?

Countries that are waking up to new methods of producing are most notably Peru, Brazil and Mexico. There has been a dramatic change in the quality of bean and fine chocolate coming from these countries.

The United States is at the forefront of bean to bar production. Small independent producers are making chocolate of outstanding quality: Rouge, Patrick, Dandelion, are just a few examples. 

Curious about taking a tour with Chloé? Learn a little more at Localers.com.

Marooned on a tropical island

I was supposed to see Aimee Mann tonight. I've wanted to see her for years and was so excited to finally have tickets. Needless to say, the show was rescheduled and my thwarted attempt to see her is small beans to what's happened in the wake of Hurricane Sandy.

It sounds like New York is a mess. Lots of people—friends, family and strangers—are making do, getting by, offering help, and taking up offers from others for help. So who I am to say peep? I'm stuck in the Caribbean!

I do feel bad that so many people are without electricity and cleaning up atrocious messes. But if my flight was going to be cancelled and I was going to get stuck someplace, Grenada is a pretty sublime place to be.

This island is a paradise of fruit, spices and... chocolate!

 Amazing chocolate, at that.

 

The people couldn't be friendlier, the vibe of Grenada is peaceful, happy and mellow, and it's just... spectacular.

 I've hiked through the rainforest...

 ... swam in the sea...

 ... and am eating it all up.

Until I'm back in New York this weekend, I'm hoping everyone stays safe and well.

Thankfully, I have good neighbor-friends who are seeing that Milo is safe and well.

Paris, My Sweet goes to Brazil

It’s been over eight months since Paris, My Sweet came out and nearly every week I get some sort of surprise. An amazing email from a reader (thank you, for taking the time). A kind note on my Facebook page (ditto). Discovering that the book is in stores halfway around the world, as I did when my friend Dominique emailed this photo from Cape Town (merci, Dom!).

But in other worldly news, Paris, My Sweet was translated into Portuguese this summer and is now available in Brazil!

Isn't the cover gorgeous? "Minha Doce Paris"—I love it.

I was also thrilled to hear that Barnes & Noble will be featuring a “Love Stories” themed table from January 1 – February 14, 2013 and Paris, My Sweet will be featured. Hip hip!

And for anyone who happens to be in Kansas City this Saturday, hankering for a brown butter and molasses bonbon, I’m doing a reading at the most amazing chocolatier, Christopher Elbow, at 2 pm. Please come and eat some chocolates with me!

Haute Chocolaterie: La Maison du Chocolat

La Maison du Chocolat, 225, rue du Faubourg-Saint-Honoré, hit Paris in 1981, and it didn't take long to become an institution. Something like three weeks. Faces staring into the windows are studies in anticipation. The chocolates are made below the shop in what used to be a wine cellar. Owner Robert Linxe is less interested in chew than in flavor and melt. Marriages made in heaven are his forte: chocolate an coffee, chocolate and rum, chocolate and orange. An occasional flirtation with kirsch is permissible. For the more indissoluble union of chocolate with the well-defined personality of coffee, Linxe frequently has his coffee and cocoa beans ground together.

"Good chocolate won't make you sick," he said as he urged us to taste a Romeo, a Bohème, and a Rigoletto. "It won't even make you fat. Look at me, and I eat it all day long." True, he was as svelte and active as a live wire and as persuasive as a faith healer.

"Bitter chocolate is full of potassium and magnesium."

Convinced that it was so good for me, I could hardly refuse a Bacchus.

—Originally from Gourmet Magazine, 1987

A) I want to write this well

B) I want a job where I get to write like this,  about chocolate all the time

C) I miss Paris

D) Why, oh why, did Gourmet fold??

Oh la la

Bread and chocolate...

...and chocolate...

... and even more chocolate...

In fact, I don't know if I've ever seen such a beautiful and varied selection of chocolate. Mountains of the stuff. Caramels, too.

And then there are the roughly 300 varieties of cheeses...

 Sardines and antipasti...

All this and tons more at the one-week-old Bedford Cheese Shop on Irving Place, which kicks the original shop's ass and is going to allow me to travel to Paris via my taste buds any time I want. I'm very, very excited.

Cold but lovely

This is a different kind of Parisian visit for me. I’m trying out the concept of “no agenda.” Save for a few restaurant reservations , and the book soirée bien sur, this week will unfold mysteriously. Each day, spontaneous. It’s also different as I am with someone—obviously new for me and changing things.

So far, so good.

Sunday was the kind of day you read about; a cliché day. An old colleague had invited me to his country home, so off on the train we went. It was the kind of day that you couldn’t script any better. He and his wife have a spectacular home (which used to be a mill and which featured a roaring fire—for as NYC is having summer temps, Paris feels like the dead of winter. There’s currently a 40-degree difference between the two cities). There were more than a dozen of us, all friends from different pockets of their life, making for an eclectic crowd and non-stop conversation. We moved from the fire to the dining room table. Grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, homemade quiche, bread, salad, cheese, wine, ice cream, chocolate… it lasted for hours. And required a stroll through the village before taking the train back to the city in the evening, which couldn’t have been more picturesque. A babbling brook, a small school, the local park. Pitch-perfect.

From country mice to city mice in a matter of kilometers and hours, we went to the Hemingway Bar for cocktails at night as the Ritz is about to close for two years’ worth of renovations. Always a delight.

And back in the daylight hours, having no agenda meant a stroll across the Pont Alexandre III. Lunch at Café Constant. A pit-stop at Les Deux Magots. And dinner with friends.

It was brilliant to see and feel Paris again. To know that there is no work to be done. To see where the day takes you. To see how life unfolds.

Classy girls

I met Nadine and Brett at my Three Tarts book signing. They came with their parents, all four of them excited for their upcoming visit to the City of Light (and Dark Chocolate). Needless to say, nothing made me happier to see that they trekked through the SoPi streets to get to Denise Acabo's A l'Etoile d'Or. (Well actually, it made me especially happy to see them perched over the Bernachon table.) Now these are memories that will last a lifetime.

Visions of Paques past

They don't call them chocolate masters in France for nothing.

Just take a look at some of the incredible, edible sculptures from previous years at Michel Cluizel...

... and Lenotre.

Guess who??

(There is only one Patrick Roger.)

Wouldn't want to break that oeuf at Pralus (actually, I would).


And Michel Chaudun's chocolate sculptures are almost too exquisite to eat.

Almost.

Happy Easter!

Number 9!

Back in the summer of 2008, I was astonished when the New York Times accepted my pitch for a Velib spree through Paris that targeted the city's best chocolatiers. Then the Tour du Chocolat went on to become a Top 10 travel story for the year.

This morning I found out it happened again: A Paris Farewell came in at Number 9 on the list of top travel articles for 2011. Hooray!

I couldn't be happier—not only for the insane honor, but because that piece was indeed a love letter to Paris. I loved researching and writing it, I loved sharing it and hearing all the wonderful responses, and I still love all the memories I carry with me as a result. Especially since I've been missing Paris like mad lately. (Paris, je t'aime. Encore et toujours.)