P is for (Chocolate and) Pralines

When in Belgium, you have to eat the chocolate and sample the pralines.

The Belgians didn't create chocolate, they just perfected it. Chocolate comes from the Theobroma cacao tree native to Mexico and Central America. The ancient Aztecs and Mayans were the first to fall in love with it, as a drink. Christopher Columbus brought chocolate back to Spain and by the 17th century it was served throughout Europe, as a drink. It was only in the 19th century that an enterprising Dutchman created a sweeter powder form of cacao that could be used in solid forms. This innovation was called “Dutch cocoa”. It’s still used for baking today. 

Which brings us to the Belgians. The Belgians have been consuming chocolate for over 400 years since the era when they were ruled by the Spanish crown. In the 19th century the Belgians imported cacao from their African colony, the Belgian Congo. Today each Belgian consumes 15 pounds of chocolate a year. 15 pounds!

What makes Belgian chocolate so good is its purity. Since the 19th century Belgian chocolate has been defined—by law—as consisting of at least 35% pure cocoa. This prevents manufacturers from using vegetable-based fats that are less rich and not as creamy—two of the elements that we all love about chocolate. 

What is the difference between “Belgian chocolate” and “pralines”? Chocolate comes in rectangles, bars and slabs and it is just that: chocolate. Chocolate is pure. Nuts, cherries, coconuts, etc. are not found in chocolate bars in Belgium. Popular Belgian brands eaten in the chocolate capital of the world include Cote d'Or, Bernard Callebaut and Guylian.

Then there are pralines. “Praline” refers to the process of grinding sugar-coated almonds, hazelnuts and other nuts into a powder which is then used to make chocolate confections. Pralines can have a center that is a nut, fruit or liquer which is then covered in chocolate. The varied assortments, colors and combinations are stunning to behold. Belgians do things with pralines that make being a chocolatier more than a science, it's a fine art.  

Brussels’ main thoroughfare, Anspachlaan / Boulevard d’Anspach is lined with countless praline shops. Come to think of it, most streets in Belgium have praline shops. How else would Belgians buy the 15 pounds of the stuff annually? 

Some popular Belgian praline shops include Godiva, Leonidas and Neuhaus. And if you really want your mind blown, go to the Place du Sablon in Brussels and eat the pralines from Pierre Marcolini, although before popping them in your mouth, feast upon them with your eyes. Belgian confections are perfection. Enjoy!

The Prince's Visit

"Should I wear this?" Mr. Wonderful said pulling a pressed cotton dress shirt from his closet.
"Love it," I said sitting on a pouf.
"Or this?" he said flashing a 100% linen number. 
"That's great, too."
"You're not helping."

To be fair both shirts would have looked dynamite with his suit. But Mr. Wonderful needed definite answers like: Yes that works; No that doesn't or; What?! You won't be caught dead in that! The reason for Mr. Wonderful's clothing anxiety was the Prince was coming to town. Which proved that even grown men will act like giddy teenaged girls when meeting a Prince.

Prince Philippe of Belgium was in Los Angeles for a business trip to promote trade between L.A. and the land of great beer and chocolate. Being a lover of great beer and chocolate, Mr. Wonderful had been invited to meet the Prince to discuss ways of bringing more great beer and chocolate to Southern California.

On this trip the Prince brought some of his closest business pals, oh, like 400 of them. But none of them knew great beer and chocolate like Mr. Wonderful. Once I did a blind tasting on my spouse and in the beer department he could tell a Leffe Dubbel from a Leffe Tripel in 1.6 seconds. And you should see him with chocolate. Give him a 1 lb. box of Leonidas chocolates and within a minute he will tell you the color, texture and flavor of every chocolate in that box. Of course you won't have any chocolates left in the box but that's another matter. I don't quibble with the methods of gourmet tasters like Mr. Wonderful.

Prince Philippe was traveling solo in the Golden State having left his lovely wife, Princess Matilde, at their little castle in Brussels. I knew how she felt since Mr. Wonderful didn't bring me to the royal reception either. I heard she drowned her sorrows by plopping on the sofa with a pint of Trader Joe's chocolate coconut ice cream and watching every season of HBO's Game of Thrones in one sitting. Or maybe that was me. 

I understood the royal couple; after all they were just like us: They were married, we were married. They were human, we were human. They had to borrow Harold's extra-tall ladder to hang a lamp. Or maybe that was me. 

In order to prep my spouse for meeting the future king to the Belgian throne, I quizzed him on what he could say upon first greeting the Prince: And "Hey Dude, wanna ditch this fiesta and catch some gnarly waves at Zuma Beach?"--didn't suffice. Rather I encouraged Mr. Wonderful to be respectful, to talk about the products he sells and ask if the Prince would be interested in learning more. 

"That's what you should say," I said ending my speech with a royal-worthy salute. 
"What if I wore this one?" Mr. Wonderful said pulling out a silk shirt that matched his eye color perfectly.
"Yes!" I said. "The Prince will really notice you in that one!" Or maybe that was me.