"A chocolate tasting? Sa-weet!"

My chocolate consumption is usually limited to the odd Wispa (a recent, pretty much life-altering discovery) and the shameful, nightmareish binge on Lindt Santa's every Christmas. But when my dad invited me to a chocalate tasting with a Colombian theme, I decided to go, if only for the free glass of wine.

I got there late, sweaty and out of breath after getting a bit lost and nobody being able to tell me where the street I was looking for was (I guess no real, approachable people actually live in Notting Hill). The guy giving the presentation looked at me like I was a turd in his mousse au chocolate as I took my seat in the front row, managing not to knock over the bowls of cocoa beans lovingly laid out on the table.



The guy doing the talk/presentation, Martin Christy, is the founder and editor of Seventypercent.com , a lovably geeky blog/online community dedicated to the brown gold. Apparently he's also a web technology consultant, but I prefer imagining him as a primary school teacher living in a small house made of brown bricks in Teddington with his golden retriever and constantly having a little chocolate smear on his cheek. A very british, non-creepy Willy Wonka. He told us about how he went to visit this cocoa farm in Santander, in the north east of Colombia, and we got to sample some of the different types of chocolate they made there.

I hadn't had dinner that night, so it was all I could do not to punch the air in delight when Martin said "I think now it's a good time for our first sample...". I had just swallowed my piece of 70%-cocoa goodness whole, when Martin continued: "Have a little smell first... what can you make out?". Everyone else still had their slabs between their fingers, passing it underneath their nose with an air of deep concentration. Patience fail. As people started chewing and making expertly, ruminating facial expressions, Martin asked us how we thought it tasted. "Chocolatey", my dad said, to my horror.

After riding this hurdle of brief but intense embarassment, I kind of got the hang of it. Grab a piece, pretend to smell it (my olfactory sense is incredibly underdeveloped, which has its uses when you live with two other dudes), break the already tiny square in half, then let each half slowly melt in your mouth while trying not to choke. Good thing the chocolate was delicious (apart from one variation which had bits of pineapple inside) and the photos of Colombia and its landscape were pretty amazing. Plus, Martin really seemed to know his Hachez from his Hershey's, and I remember thinking how awesome it was that people can develop a love and an understanding (he clearly had visited a number of factories and could tell you shitloads about the fermentation of the cocoa beans, quality control and fair trade) of something that people like me tend to pass off as an indulgent, overrated comfort food.