Not too many people know that chocolate originally came from the Americas. It was the Mexicans who introduced cacao to the world. In Spanish and in every other European language, this wonderful bean is also called cacao. But English tongues found it difficult to pronounce it and twisted it to cocoa, and the word is used till today. How it became chocolate is still unclear to me. Some authorities claim the name chocolate is compounded from atte or atle, which in Mexican signifies water and from the sound the water makes – choco choco choco – when it starts to boil, bubble and froth. In other words, chocolate, according to some etymologists, is an onomatopoeic word. On the other hand, other experts insist it is from the Aztec word xocoatl (pronounced so-KO-a-tel) meaning bitter water.
In the days of the Aztecs and Mayans, the cacao bean had an important ceremonial function. Chocolate was drunk and cacao beans were offered to the gods at many rituals, from the naming of infants and rites of passages to marriages and even funerals. Cacao was considered very precious back then. It was the standard currency in Central America. A pumpkin might cost four cacao beans, a rabbit 10, a good slave would cost 100. You could also buy a woman’s favor for 10 cacao beans.
The Aztec emperor Montezuma drank large jugs of the frothy chocolate drink (mixed with water, chili peppers, cornmeal and other spices) all day to enhance his libido. Even the planting of cacao seeds involved much ceremony, and had sexual overtones. According to the 19th century historian H. H. Bancroft, "The finest grains of seeds were exposed to the moonlight during four nights, and the tillers of soil must sleep apart from their wives and concubines for several days, in order that on the night before planting, they might indulge their passions to the fullest extent. Certain persons were even said to have been appointed to perform the sexual act at the very moment when the first seeds were deposited in the ground."
It was the Spanish conquistador Hernan Cortes who, after having his first taste of chocolate at Montezuma’s court, took the precious bean to Spain. Initially, the Spaniards didn’t like the bitter flavor of chocolate. To spice up the brew a bit, they began heating the beverage and adding a variety of ingredients, like sugar, cinnamon, and other spices, to the mix – and the sweet, hot chocolate was born. It quickly became in vogue at the Spanish royal court and in high societies all over Europe. In France, chocolate became an instant status symbol, and by decree, no one but members of the French aristocracy were allowed to drink it. It was the Spaniards who introduced the molinillo, a wooden stirring stick to whip the chocolate mix into a smooth foam. By the late 1600s, adding milk became popular to make the lighter, smoother flavored drink as we know it today. But it was only in 1848 when "eating chocolate" was invented, when cocoa butter and sugar were added together forming chocolate paste. In 1875, the Swiss developed a way to make solid milk chocolate into the chocolate candy bars as we know them today. The Spaniards in turn introduced cacao to Filipinos and it was regarded a special drink. If you remember your Noli Me Tangere, Padre Damaso would instruct his muchacha (maid servant) to serve his guests two kinds of chocolate drinks: Chocolate eh (for espesso), reserved for exalted guests, and chocolate ah (aguado or watered down) for ordinary mortals.
Today, we take chocolate for granted, because it is available even in our sari-sari stores. With the influx of duty free shops and globalization, supermarket shelves are filled with so many different varieties and brands of chocolates that would make one dizzy.
Somehow, chocolate has always been associated with love, romance and esteem. It’s the feel-good food. We give chocolates and flowers on Valentine’s Day and other special occasions. Some women binge on them when they’re depressed, and in an instant, they are up and about and feel better.
It’s not so surprising that when Mary Ann heard there’s an ongoing chocolate buffet promotion at the The Peninsula Manila lobby, aptly called Chocolate Seduction, she did not stop nagging me until we made a special trip to Manila just for it.
"How much chocolate can you eat?" I demanded, imagining if we would be back home in Angeles City in the wee hours of the morning just because of chocolates. Well, you know women, they have great persuasive powers that I found myself giving in to their caprice.
"Sige na naman," she said. "It’s only on Friday and Saturday nights until Sept. 28. And I certainly do not want to miss it."
My sisters Doren and Carmen, niece Michele and my mom chorused in saying they would like to join, too. What is it with women and chocolates?, I will never know.
There was an unusual gaiety and a flurry of activity at the Peninsula lobby that Friday night. Everyone seemed to be awake and talking. There was more chatter than the usual nights I would spend sitting at one of the lobby’s comfy club chairs and listening to live orchestra music.
"It must be the chocolate," my mom commented.
Since I was in the company of women, we went straight to the buffet. Gosh, so many ways one can do with chocolate! Half of them made with French Valrhona, currently the most coveted chocolate among the discerning pastry chefs, and the other half mixed with Belgian and French cacao. They were all specially baked and all looked so rich. Just looking at the scrumptious spread make me tizzy. From the smallest tarts, saucy puddings, whole cakes, pies, fondues, made-in-the-premises crepes to The Peninsula’s signature white and dark chocolate truffles, of course. Faced with so many choices, we all agreed to get a piece of everything to share and return for more of what we liked.
Doren, herself a fantastic pastry chef (not because she is my sister), was enjoying bites of chocolate macaroons, claiming they were perfectly done with the right crispness and chewy consistency. They are comparable to those of Lenôtre, she said, one of the best patisseries in Paris, which is a favorite even among discerning pastry chefs. Macaroons, by the way, are not made solely of coconut, as we Filipinos know them.
My mom, the best baker of all (not because she is my mother), loved the macadamia fudge brownies, which were, she said, moist inside but with tops that were crunchy to the bite. Michele, the ice cream nut, who claims she can finish all by herself the monstrous ice cream bowl with 14 scoops (aptly called Pen Pals) which she saw being whizzed by our table earlier, was delirious with the chocolate chip ice cream with choco fudge topping. Carmen relished the Bailey’s chocolate tarts, while Mary Ann had a second of the chocolate crepes, which she overloaded with crisp almond chips and finished a chocolate soufflé pudding. Not wanting to be outdone by my five choco loco ladies, I had a big wedge of the very dark chocolate mud cake, so wickedly dark and fudgy, and downed a harmless looking chocolate soup with a liquor-marinated cherry served in a shooter. Wow, that made my head swirl!
Maybe chocolate really is an aphrodisiac. Maybe it’s all in the mind. Now I know why Mary Ann nagged me to take her to The Peninsula for chocolates. To the men out there: Don’t let the wicked women fool you. It’s not the chocolates they are after, and I’m not about to spill the cocoa beans.