Book: The True History of Chocolate
Author: Sophie D. Coe, Michael D. Coe
Publisher: Thames and Hudson Ltd; Third edition (1 January 2019)
Language: English
Paperback: 280 pages
Item Weight: 270 g
Dimensions: 12.9 x 19.8 cm
Country of Origin: United Kingdom
Price: 874/-
Oh, Pangloss!” cried Candide, “what a strange genealogy! Is not the Devil the original stock of it [syphilis]?”
“Not at all,” replied this great man, “it was a thing unavoidable, a necessary ingredient in the best of worlds; for if Columbus had not in an island of America caught this disease, which contaminates the source of life, frequently even hinders generation, and which is evidently opposed to the great end of nature, we should have neither chocolate nor cochineal.” ---------- Voltaire, Candide
Voltaire should have known better. There isn’t a slice of substantiation that Columbus ever contracted syphilis in the New World (though some of his crew may have), nor did he know anything about chocolate, let alone cochineal, a fine red dye derived from the bodies of Mexican scale insects.
The response of the ever-optimistic Pangloss to Candide’s question is just one of the innumerable examples of “accepted fiction” replacing fact in the history of food and cooking. Europeans did eventually learn of these two valuable substances, but this had nothing to do with the great navigator’s alleged social disease.
The Portuguese poet Fernando Pessoa had the precise idea when he wrote early in the 19th century “Look, there’s no metaphysics on earth like chocolate.” Chocolate is a substance long regarded as magical, even supernatural, not to mention salubrious, today for its heart - healthy properties, yesterday because of a solid medicinal reputation as well as an aphrodisiacal one.
Chocolate begins as seeds in a pod, that pod the fruit of the cacao tree Theobroma cacao. Not while we're on the subject, the scientific name means “drink of the gods,” by way of continuing the metaphysical.
Until moderately of late, nobody gave much thought to eating chocolate. Drink was its original use and, regardless of evidence of an Amazonian origin. Mesoamericans were probably its original users. Cacao was employed in ancient Maya ceremonies and rituals and later used in religious rites to keep alive the memory of Quezalcoatl, the god of the air who made earthly visits from time to time dispensing instructions on how to grow various foods, cacao among them.
Chocolate layer cake!! Chocolate chip cookies!! Boxes of chocolate truffles!! Hot fudge sundaes!! Chocolate is synonymous with man’s cultural sweet tooth, his restaurant dessert menus, and his notion of indulgence.
Chocolate is adored around the world and has been since the Spanish first encountered cocoa beans in South America in the 16th century. It is seen as delightful, addictive, and dominant beyond anything that can be explained by its ingredients.
The title of this book about chocolate has been personalized by the authors Sophie D. Coe and Michael D. Coe, from ‘The True History of the Conquest of Mexico’, penned (or dictated) by the conquistador Bernal Díaz del Castillo, completed in 1572 in Guatemala’s capital.
Old, deprived, and virtually blind, this spirited warrior simply wished to get the facts about the fall of the Aztecs straight for once. Unlike others who had written about the feats of Cortés and his men, sometimes in sycophantic terms, Bernal Díaz had actually been there, had known all the main contestants—including the Aztec emperor himself—and had no special axe to grind. His only goal was to tell as true a story as possible, free from what he called “lofty rhetoric.”
He proved to the world that a “true history” could be far more absorbing and informative than “accepted fiction.”
The history of food (and drink) has only become a reputable academic subject in recent decades, at least in the Western world. In North America and Great Britain, we have long suffered from puritanical prohibitions against the discussion of food while at table—and elsewhere, for that matter.
Although food, sex, and mortality are the three great ‘givens’ of human existence, earlier generations of academics normally avoided these topics, considering them not quite decent. Accordingly, culinary history was long left by default to proletarian enthusiasts of one or another food, drink, or cuisine.
This is principally the case with chocolate (and the cacao from which it is manufactured), a substance whose origins lie in the difficult and sometimes cloudy area of New World prehistory and ethnohistory.
The result is that much food writing about chocolate’s past falls into the category of Voltaire’s “accepted fiction.”
In this book, the authors have tried to disassociate from the circle by going back to the original sources.
When we modern humans think of chocolate, we think of it in its solid, sweetened form, and this is reflected in the undue emphasis which much food writing gives to solid chocolate. Yet during nine tenths of its long history, chocolate was drunk, not eaten.
In this book, the authors have tried to reinstate the balance by giving more consideration to chocolate as a valued beverage.
And since most books and articles on the subject devote only a few lines or pages, at the most, to the pre-Conquest era, we have devoted two chapters to this area of study—after all, only about one fifth of chocolate’s existence postdates the fall of the Aztec capital in 1521.
The dark brown, pleasantly bitter, chemically complex substance we know of as chocolate bears little resemblance to the pulp-surrounded seeds of the cocoa plant from which it is produced. One would never suspect that the one could be derived from the other.
The book has been divided into nine chapters:
1. The Tree of the Food of the Gods
2. The Birth of Chocolate: Mesoamerican Genesis
3. The Aztecs: People of the Fifth Sun
4. Encounter and Transformation
5. Chocolate Conquers Europe
6. The Source
7. Chocolate in the Age of Reason (and Unreason)
8. Chocolate for the Masses
9. The Ethics of Chocolate
To appreciate accurately the origin of the cacao tree (Theobroma cacao), and the steps involved in turning its seeds or beans into chocolate, the authors examine its economic botany and chocolate’s chemistry and properties in Chapter 1; the answers to the puzzle of cacao’s origin and domestication lie at hand, since the complete DNA string of the plant was determined in 2010 by two laboratories backed by the arch-rivals Mars and Hershey.
The ultimate origin of processed chocolate, though, seems to lie with the village farmers of southern Mexico’s Pacific coastal plain, almost four millennia in the past, and with the Olmecs who followed them, as shall be seen in Chapter Two.
The authors from then on, turn their attention to the rulers and royal courts of the gleaming cities of the Classic Maya, and present electrifying new data on Maya chocolate-drinking based on the recent decipherment of hieroglyphic texts. Chapter Three surveys the incredibly rich documentary evidence on the use and significance of cacao as both drink and coinage among the Aztecs, and the ritual consequence of the beverage as a symbol of human blood.
With the cataclysmic destruction of the Aztecs’ mile-high capital in 1521, and the downfall of their empire, the readers would enter an era in which chocolate-taking was transformed and creolized by the Spanish conquerors, and even new terminology invented, including the very word chocolate itself. Chapters Four and Five shows how the transformed, renamed, and taste-altered drink was brought to Europe, where it was considered a medicine to be taken according to the ancient Hippocratic-Galenic theory of the time. It also had to fit in with rules about fasting prevalent in Catholic countries.
The word “baroque” has come to mean ornateness and complexity employed for dramatic and artistic effects, and certainly in Baroque Europe there was a tremendous elaboration in the preparation of drunk chocolate, and even the inclusion of chocolate in dishes produced for noble and ecclesiastical tables. In Chapter Five, the reader comes face to face with the deep involvement of the Jesuits and the Catholic Church in all this, as the authors examine daring Italian experiments with the substance, in a way pushing chocolate to its culinary limits.
Chapter Six speaks of the producers who were responsible for the cacao and chocolate that reached the palaces, noble courts, and chocolate houses of Europe. This part of man’s history concerns colonialism, the transport and exploitation of black slave labor, and Spanish state monopolies, as well as the gradual slipping away of Spanish power as England, Holland, and France gained control of the seas. In the fullness of time, major cacao production was transferred from Spain’s tropical American possessions to Africa and beyond, to colonies controlled by Spain’s deadly rivals.
Following the culinary excesses of the Baroque Age, chocolate preparation during Europe’s Age of Reason seems almost tame, but chocolate-drinking continued to be associated with aristocracy, royalty, and the Church—except in England and other Protestant countries, where chocolate (and coffee) houses sprang up as meeting places and eventually clubs for nascent political parties.
The reader shall study in Chapter Seven that when the Revolution brought down the Catholic and royal establishment in France, coffee and tea—the favored hot drinks of the philosophes and salons of the Enlightenment—replaced drunk chocolate. Yet the Age of Reason ends with the strange and unreasonable figure of the marquis de Sade, a staunch “chocoholic” in spite of his wildly anti-establishment prose and actions.
The history of Chocolate thus far centers on chocolate as a beverage of the elite, whether of brown-skinned Aztec nobles or pale-skinned Jesuit clerics. Chapter Eight deals with chocolate’s modern history, beginning with the industrialization at the beginning of the 19th century, and the succeeding invention of solid chocolate for eating, not as something to be mixed with water and imbibed.
Chocolate soon became a snack for the masses, typified by the ubiquitous chocolate bar, an alteration overseen by the great, innovating manufacturers of England, Switzerland, and other European countries. But true mass-production techniques were perfected in the United States by Milton Hershey, with his own factory town and Disney-like theme park based on chocolate. Yet as production, mass-marketing, and consumption skyrocketed, the culinary quality of the product plunged.
In Chapter 9 the authors mull over the sometimes worrying moral concerns of the chocolate industry. Nevertheless, the authors end the “true history” on an optimistic note – with the maxim that the debasement of chocolate has led to its own reaction, with the emergence in the late 20th and early 21st centuries of elite, premier chocolate for aficionados with long pockets—but to be eaten, of course, not sipped, as chocolate had been for most of the thousands of years since that unknown Mexican Indian first turned cocoa beans into “the food of the gods.”
We all love Chocolate. But how much do we actually know about it? – The nine chapters that make up this book seek to answer this question.
What struck me most about this tome was that not only do the authors offer chary documentation; their book features fresh and formerly unpublished information and interpretations of chocolate history.
Moreover, it offers a wealth of extraordinary and fascinating facts and folklore about one of the world's beloved foods.
Though desiccated and blatantly academic in places, I found it thoroughly pleasurable.
Grab a copy if you choose.