Last month I had the pleasure to doing another tour, which included Lausanne, Switzerland (one reason is at the top of this newsletter - check out that spectacular view from our hotel!) with folks coming from Norway, the United Kingdom, and North America. We visited the workshop of Jacques Genin, who is obsessive about his chocolates and pastries; each one has to be the picture of perfection in order for it to make it into his swanky boutique. (Whenever I go, he hands off samples of things with tiny, imperceptible scratches, which I scarf down.)
Jean-Charles Rochoux is another favorite and his classic chocolates are the quintessential Parisian bonbon – a thin enrobage of chocolate might conceal a filling of liquid Cognac or Grand Marnier, chocolate bars surprise – and delight – with caramelized hazelnuts embedded in the deep, dark bittersweet chocolate. (I always find it charming when French chocolatiers say "black chocolate", which is the literal translation into English of "chocolat noir." But I don't correct them because now I understand when French people say they find my gaffes amusante as well.)
And at Fouquet, one of the oldest confectionery shops in Paris (you can watch my video of them in action here), the team in the newly updated kitchen works hard, caramelizing Italian hazelnuts and transforming them into crunchy paste to enrobe in black…er, I mean, dark chocolate. Sour cherries get pitted by hand, each pit plucked out by a loop of metal affixed to a wine cork. And, of course, there are my beloved chocolate-covered marshmallows, which they keep high up on a shelf in the kitchen, away from my prying hands.
I was having lunch afterward with the owner of one of these place and he was telling me that he likes when I bring in my guests, because it gives him a chance to show people what they do, and what makes them so special. It's not necessarily the usual attitude, where things are hidden, and secrets are closely guarded. People like Jacques know that even if he gives away his recipe for Tarte au citron vert (lime tart), he's not in danger of being upstaged by someone else making it. Unless you want to go through the fourteen steps it takes to make each chocolate-covered rectangle of hazelnut croquant, Fouquet doesn't have anything to worry about. And although folks were clamoring for the recipe for Monsieur Rochoux's fabulous praline paste, it's impossible to get the same results at home – unless your kitchen is outfitted with a giant granite roller, capable of crushing caramelized nuts to an absolutely smooth paste without any trace of grittiness.
It's also nice for me to go to these shops, because it's easy to take for granted all the bakeries and treats that we have such easy access to in Paris. It's a welcome respite from the sometimes surly bureaucrats who make you pry the information out of them, banks that refuse to accept deposits on days that end in the letter "y", and seeing trails of trash and dog dropping on the streets, and focusing on what's lovely about Paris. It's not just walks along the Seine, marveling at the Eiffel Tower, or scraping poopy off the bottom of your shoe. It's about seeing people hard at work, who are experts at their craft, confident of their abilities to produce the world's finest chocolates and confections. And, of course, for the rest of us – it's nice to enjoy them, too!
-David