9 months to Paris, day 278. Chocolat, Chocolate, and other traitement spécial.

So, you think you want some candy?  The very first time I went to Paris was in 2000. I was armed with my copies of Frommer's and Fodor's books about Paris. Mind now, these were not digital copies but rather full fledged books. And heavy.  I read them front to back. Twice. Packed them in my suitcase, and I decided that I was going to be Parisian in my quest for chocolate, and other candies.

Having spent most of my life in the South Central Pennsylvania heartland, I was a certified, tried and true Hershey bar lover.  I mean who doesn't love Hershey bars?  Yummy, smooth milk chocolate still made in the small town 25 minutes north of where I live.

Still, I was intrigued by the thought of Parisian chocolates. We wandered a lot, that first trip.  And I cannot possibly imagine the amount of miles we walked since it was new and we were unsure of our destination.  The first chocolate shop we ended up at, was on Rue St. Honore.  Godiva.  A name I knew but cost prohibitive in the United States.  We looked in the windows at the beautiful array of chocolates, and marzipan.  We decided to give it a shot.  Since we were in a rather well known shopping area, English was spoken.  We talked a bit, sampled a few, and I ending up purchasing some chocolates for my husband.  

Things I learned that first trip.  There were no clothing shops that carried the size that my rather tall husband needed his clothing to be.  Tall sizes? Qu'est-ce que c'est? So I decided that food, liquor, and candy would be his souvenirs of my trip.  Godiva had liquor filled chocolates.  Not those nasty, waxy bottle shaped liquors that are sold in the US, but incredible truffle shaped chocolates, with real liquor in them.  They literally melted in your mouth, with a burst of Cognac, Cointreau, Whiskey, and Rhum.  I promptly bought a box of them.  

While I enjoyed the Godiva, I had read in my tour book, of a small chocolatier that was not to be missed.  La Maison du Chocolat.  They had 2 locations in Paris. I set my sights on the one at Rue Francois, smack dab in the Golden Triangle.  I had no idea just what the "Golden Triangle" meant. Again, this was my first foray into Paris.  I had no real perception of the layout of the city.  No Plan du Arrondissement, tucked into my pocket.  I think we walked in circles till we found the store.

We walked inside, glad to be out of the chilly air, and took a deep breath.  The smell of the chocolate in that store was just indescribable . I felt like I had wandered into Wonka land.  Surely there had to be a chocolate river somewhere in this small building, hidden from view, only to appeal to your sense of smell.  I remember the young lady as extremely helpful even if she did not speak fluent English. She allowed me to sample several pieces to make up my mind.  This was when they would still allow you to sample their "Pave du Faubourg', a incredible dark ganache.  I bought a box of them, it didn't matter what it cost,  I had to have this, and bring it home for Erik to try.  Small batch European chocolates are in a class by themselves.  Their tastes are complex, layered, with herbs, and spices. They linger on your senses long after you eat them.  They take you on a sensory trip to exotic places, a taste of South America, or the Caribbean. 

Since that first trip, I have ventured into other establishments for chocolate.  Godiva no longer sells the liquor filled chocolates, and since they opened a plant in Wyomissing, Pennsylvania, their appeal has been lost to me.  The taste has been "Americanized" and not at all like the kind you buy in Europe, made in Belgium.  I have tried La Mere de Famille's chocolates, and while they are still far better than those Hershey bars, I tend to only buy their butter salted caramels.  If you have never had one, and you love caramel, splurge and treat yourself.  I have purchased Galler chocolate from their Blvd. Haussman location, and their Chocolat du Chats as gifts for friends in the food hall at Galleries Lafayette.  I refuse to buy these chocolates any where but in France. Determined to keep them as a special treat.  On my next trip I have made Henri Le Roux in the 9th a destination.

But I am always, always drawn back to La Maison.  Maybe it is those incredible eclairs that I have purchased as my lunch, to be eaten on the steps of the Palais de Chaillot, across the Seine from the Eiffel Tower, or shared with a friend, barely making it a block past the shop. Maybe it is the cocoa dusted truffles, eaten late at night in a hotel room, after an incredible dinner.  Or maybe, it just sneaked up on me.  An unspoken tradition.