Chocolate Stress

I like to stress my chocolate.

I’ll taste it on an empty stomach and after an espresso, early in the morning, and late in the evening, after a heavy meal, and right after a glass of wine.

Wait, doesn’t that go against every advice on how to taste?

Yup, and if you’re a colleague of mine, please resist the temptation to unfriend me.

Sure, in an ideal world, you’ll want to taste chocolate in a quiet, well-lit room, with no noise or strong smells. You’ll wait a couple of hours after a meal, then cleanse your palate between bites. This is fine for a chocolate industry professional, but for most people, this sounds like a chore.

When a client hires me for a private or virtual tasting, I have little control over the circumstances.

Some attendees will bring a mug of tea or coffee to the event.
Others will have finished a heavy meal.
One renegade will have finished the chocolate the day before the event and bring their notes to the tasting (true story).

In other words, people will do what they want hashtag #shocker.

When I realized that, I flipped the script on my tastings: I stopped expecting people to “do things right” and started adapting to their circumstances.

This is what that looks like:

When considering chocolate for my kits, I pick distinct bars with notes so different from each other than you could taste the difference even after finishing a bowl of curry.

Is the first bite dark and bold and fudgy? Great, then the second will be light and fruity.
Are we tasting a single-origin dark chocolate? Cool, then we’ll end with a milk chocolate.

When I choose chocolate for a client, I have one goal: to convey the amazingness of craft chocolate, no palate cleansing required.

What it means for chocolate to be accessible

When it comes to chocolate, many of my colleagues focus on making it “accessible” and by “accessible”, they mean financially affordable. But there’s another crucial type of accessibility: emotional accessibility.

Sure, a product can be affordable, but what if the sales environment feels exclusive? Or if a customer believes nice things aren’t for them?

Emotional accessibility IS important, especially when selling a luxury product like chocolate.

I learned that right before entering the workforce.

When I was 22, I interned at the coating lab of a car company based in France. The team was made up of 10 technicians, most of whom didn’t study beyond high school. Every year, it was the tradition for a supplier to take the team out for lunch. That summer, a sales rep took us all to a French Creole restaurant which had been awarded a Michelin star.

We were all very excited.

The whole dining experience was fantastic. We ate a three-course meal, which included a chicken dish served under an actual CLOCHE. It was also the only time in my life when I received a menu with no price (because, you know, women shouldn’t worry about how much things cost 😄).

None of us had the budget to justify this type of dining on our own. But when the opportunity for fancy dining was presented to us, we jumped on it.

In the US, people have a different relationship with food. When I share a piece of chocolate at pop-up events, some people hesitate before accepting, saying things like:

“I have basic taste in chocolate”.
“I don’t have a sophisticated palate”.
“I’m worried I won’t tell the difference”.

This makes me sad. When good food is offered to us, everyone should feel worthy of it.

And as a chocolate tasting host, it’s my job to create an environment that makes every guest feel like they belong. This type of accessibility is, in my opinion, at the center of discussions around hospitality. What do you think?