 A plantation on the Caribbean
Sea
The original
objective was modest: to produce the finest chocolate in the world using only
the world’s highest quality cocoa. And so it would be. Alessio Tessieri, a Pisan
from the town of Pontedera, newbie chocolatier with a lot of determination, had
his sights set on that little plantation in Venezuela. He knew that “you can’t make great
chocolate unless you control the farm,” which in this case, was a plantation.
This rule holds true for wine as well as for oil. If you want Romanée Conti
wine, don't you need to start with Vosne Romanée grapes? Add to this the fact
that what we have here isn't just any old plantation, but the plantation in
Chuao “where the history of the world’s finest cocoa is planted”. Up until now, this cocoa was the
exclusive domain of the great French chocolate makers, such as Jacques Bernachon
or Valrhona. Now it belongs only and exclusively to Amedei, a small but
competent factory in the Tuscany’s chocolate valley (see the November 1999
Gambero Rosso issue ). To acquire the legendary plantation of Chuao, Alessio
Tessieri put years of negotiation, money and perhaps even a little too much risk
on the table. Starting with the fact that this “field” is not exactly around the
corner. Take a plane from Italy, get off in Caracas, cross its endless “favelas”
and get onto the road that brings you smack into the middle of the mountains of the Parque Nacional
HenrÍ Pittieri, the “selva” as it is
euphemistically referred to by the locals. You take one hairpin turn after the
other up the mountain and then make the descent, crossing a rain forest until
you reach the Caribbean Sea. You are now in Chorony, deep in the land of cocoa.
You can only reach Chuao by sea and but a few brave tourists rent a boat that
takes them to the uncontaminated shores. Another half an hour by ocean, admiring
the longitypical silhouette of palm trees and then again, yet another rugged
road into the forest which after an hour by foot or by cocoa transport truck,
you now find yourself immersed in the splendid isolation of Chuao. The entire
town revolves around cocoa and its nucleus is the little colonial church with
its enormous parvis, the “patio de secado”, where the precious cocoa beans are
left to dry. Dusty streets, dusty feet, low and brightly coloured houses, roofs
in asbestos cement, lush hibiscus, and one single public telephone in the entire
town. The heavy equatorial humidity that is so beneficial to cocoa yet less so
to the inhabitants. Music blasting from speakers at the corner of the
crossroads. Living in this village are the descendents of the black slaves
brought over here during the seventeenth century. The Indios lived in this
corner of the jungle before them and would never have worked the plantations, so
the Conquistadors deemed it most logical to exterminate them. And like the
Indios before being banished from this earthly paradise, the natives of Chuao
(who number somewhere around fifteen hundred ) continue to subsist on very
little. Mostly “cerveza regional”, the ice-cold beer
that goes hand-in-hand with afternoon siesta. However, the natural wealth is
astounding: throw out a fishing line and the entire Caribbean takes the bait;
reach out and grab a plantain or pick up a mango off the ground; take a machete
to split a coconut, fill it up with rum and you are soon swept away by the
rhythm of the tropics. An
electrical charge is in the air and the people respond with every movement. The children here are beautiful and
numerous (sixty percent of the population is under 16), nibbling on mammon - the juicy fruit gathered from
under the trees -, and with a skip to their step, cooling off from the heat of
the tropics in the pools of water collected from the restorative, refreshing and
live-giving river. Just steps from the village, the waters of the Rio Chuao
receive the cold streams from the Rio Tamaira, the hot waters of the Rio Duro,
while the Rio Medio gives a little of each. All three tributaries descend from
the shaded and sun-drenched mountainsides of the Parque Nacional, which leaves
behind the 140 hectares of the plantation.
In this way, the cocoa plants receive all the water they need, thanks to
ingeniously improvised dams and irrigation systems of banana leaves. And when
the torrential rains gush down in the forest, they bring nutritious silt with
them, a heaven-sent fertiliser. The surrounding "selva" provides
protective shade to the long and willowy cocoa plants and trap the
humidity. Chuao is a perfect
natural habitat for all these reasons.
That special
fragrance
Over the years, entire plantation passed through into the hands of
Spanish, Jesuit, and Venezuelan Caudillo conquistadors, and is today licensed to
the Chuao Impresa Campesina, a cooperative organisation with one hundred odd
farmers. However in fact, the agricultural business and the village are one in
the same. Say Chuao and you mean its chocolate producing Hacienda . How it has always been. Since
colonial times, the methods for working the plantation have remained virtually
unchanged: men build dams out of leaves for irrigation, keeping the plants free
from the weedy growth of the underbrush where poisonous multicoloured snakes –
the culebra – can conceal themselves, representing a
nightmare for the harvesters.
Village women take care of the cocoa. They not only gather the fruit, but
subsequently ferment and dry out the beans. In the hacienda's warehouses located
next to the church, the enormous “masorche” - the fruit of the cocoa
trees, which resemble large red melons - are split in half and the pulp is
removed, revealing the super-sweet white placenta- coated beans inside. These
are piled in wooden tubs and protected with banana leaves. The sharp bittersweet
odour produced during fermentation envelops the porch and wafts throughout the
village. It is an scent typical of Chuao. A unique and distinctive blend of
compost, toast, tobacco, and spices. After three or four days of fermentation,
the beans are laid out on the parvis in front of the church to dry. The women of
the village rake the beans continuously so that they dry uniformly and do not
grow mould. When the sun is at the zenith, the women return to pile the beans,
as protection from drying out too quickly. After eight days, the beans are
completely dry and the grain inside exudes a delicious chocolate fragrance. But
most of the people working with chocolate only recognise this scent. For them,
cocoa is used primarily in a beverage to drink on special occasions. They cannot fathom the obsession that
Europeans have for their cocoa.
Indeed, they watch with amusement as their guests sing the praises of the
scalding hot beverage that Leida so skilfully prepares. Leida inherited the art
of working panelas – the cocoa paste
used in hot chocolate – from her ancestors. Take, Edoardo, the organisational
secretary of the agricultural company. He would take a beer any day over hot
chocolate and knows only “that we have to work hard to sell more cocoa.” What is
done with their cocoa afterwards is of little interest. Nor do they understand
the importance of fermenting and drying the beans so carefully. Chuao : a Heritage of
Humanity?
Alessio Tessieri is not
the only one convinced that the
finest cocoa beans in the world are grown in Chuao. Caracas-born intellectual
and local historian, Francisco Plànchez, agrees. Plànchez is an
anti-globalisation individual who lives in the village with one of his two
families. He fears the arrival of the highway that would link Chuao with Chorony and the other towns on the
coast. It would spell the end to the isolation that has allowed this black
enclave to successfully preserve its centuries-old traditions, such as the
celebrations of the Diablos Danzantes, one of the clearest examples of the cult
syncretism of the Catholic church: African dances and masks moving to the
pulsing drum beat in devotion to Corpus Christi. It used to represent a miraculous
tension reliever to make the pain of slavery easier to bear. A release that
would still seem to work perfectly, given the frequent sound of beating drums
heard vibrating throughout the village.
“This road will bring big
money in and push out all this,” says Francisco. For five years now, UNESCO has been
deliberating on whether Chuao and the Hacienda should be proclaimed a Heritage
of Humanity for their immeasurable cultural value. If UNESCO should decide in favour,
international regulations would be imposed and the Venezuelan government would
be obliged to comply. So the road would no longer be built and the surrounding
land would no longer be prey to treasure hunters in search of profits. For a while now, there have been rumours
circulating that the name Chuao should be used to define all the cocoa grown on
the coast, including cocoa from Chorony, which would certainly reap the
benefits. It would seem that it’s a small world after all. But only Chuao cocoa
can be Chuao and it is appropriate that the name define the cocoa grown in this
patch of coastline. Francisco tells us that this cocoa has always been snatched
up by the market at prices generally higher than all the other cocoa beans grown
in the world. It was considered so fine that the Spanish royal family snatched
up the lion's share of the production. As a result, the black market for the
cocoa flourished. Dutch ships – and those who are familiar with the history of
chocolate know that the Dutch were true chocolate connoisseurs – lay in ambush awaiting the right time for
loading. There's no denying that
Venezuelan cocoa on the whole enjoys an excellent reputation for its quality.
And not only because cocoa was originally grown in the Amazonian basin of the
Upper Orinoco. It is because Venezuela is the homeland of Criollo, the most
noble of all the genetic varieties, yet at the same time, one of the most
fragile and least productive, therefore produced in minimum quantities (Criollo
and its hybrids represent on 5-10% of world production). In Venezuela, just
three tonnes out of every 16,000 are Criollo cocoa in the pure form: the rare
and valuable Porcelana cocoa.
Amedei has conducted in-depth agronomic research and genetic testing on
Porcelana and today it buys up all the stock
grown, paying up to eight times more than the Forastero quality. Forastero is most used cocoa around the
world, even by the most famous chocolate producers. Criollo offers extraordinarily high
quality: its beans are subtler and sweeter than Forastero cocoa. Forastero is
the most widely grown cocoa in the world and provides high yields, but has a
less complex aroma and is slightly more bitter than Criollo. Only the upper part of the Chuao
plantation is planted with one hundred percent Criollo; the rest is a hybrid of
Criollo blanco and Amelonado from
Bahia, a cross-breeding technique that has yielded a hardier and more productive
plant. However, it will never be as
productive as some of the Forastero hybrids introduced in the African countries
and Central American nations: where Chuao produces about 100-120 kilos per
hectare, these hybrids can yield up to 2500 to 3000 kilograms per hectares. Too
bad that the elevated productivity is not commensurate with an equal measure of
fragrance. No wonder the big chocolate multinationals largely use African
cocoas, available in large quantities and at lower prices (the African continent
provides about 60% of the global cocoa market). The subtle nuances of the aroma
are at this point the least of the worries of the large scale chocolate
producers. On the contrary, the
great master French chocolatiers have concentrated their efforts precisely on
these aromatic qualities, seeking out the most promising coca varieties. Jean
Jacques Bernachon, a Lyon pastry maker, was the first to discover the joys of
Chuao cocoa. He contended that the formula for superior chocolate lies in the
use of blends of cocoa but made an exception in the case of Chuao, the only
single bean cocoa which, in his opinion, lent itself to handling in its pure
state. Bernachon used Chuao only as a “golden coating” for his bon-bons. The
villagers still remember his young son who, as soon as he arrived in Chuao from
Europe, drank up the fragrance of the beans on the church parvis and called out
the name of Chuao as if he were standing before
a much-desired treasure. Alessio’s work “on the
farm”
The first to embark on
the quest of making great chocolate with single variety cocoa was Valrhona, a
small chocolate works from Lyon, the internationally recognised "king" of high
quality chocolate bars and today owner of the multinational Bongrain company. If
the analogies with the world of wine helps to understand, then let’s say that
Valrhona was the first to do away with the flask and identify the most
prestigious cocoa plantations whose beans are endowed with incredibly rich
aromatic qualities. But Valrhona
was also famous for being the first company not to settle for purchasing cocoa
from the wholesalers; instead it established direct relationships with producing
countries, pioneering a cocoa culture in loco, investing in and researching the
agronomic aspects. The reason for this is that many forgotten plantations
conceal excellent genetic varieties of cocoa with prized aromatic
characteristics impossible to find in the more common varieties (it's like the
hidden potential in native vines, just to make yet another analogy to wine
making). Besides, you can’t expect to make great chocolate without first having
great beans, just as you can have great beans but not understand how to handle
them. Luckily, this is not the case at the Amedei company, which has built its
company philosophy on the quest for the highest possible quality. Following in
the footsteps of his predecessor, Valrhona, Tessieri carefully mapped out a
strategy. Tessieri had already met with the export manager at the French
company, attempting to strike a deal for purchasing wholesale some of Valrhona's
high quality chocolate to process at Amedei. Unfortunately, after being kept waiting
at length in the Lyon offices, his request was denied because in the French
chocolatier's opinion, the Italian market was not sophisticated enough to
appreciate such a fine quality of dark chocolate. A humiliation that Tessieri would
soon redress. He had already been
cultivating business relationships with producing countries: Ecuador,
Madagascar, Grenada, Trinidad, and Jamaica, among others. He was well-versed in
negotiating cocoa deals directly, using intermediaries and go-betweens as little
as possible. He preferred get his supplies at the source (Amedei is the only
company in the world to produce chocolate from genetically identifiable cocoa)
in order to have tighter control over the entire processing line. This is why
Tessieri began to do some research on Chuao.
The first time Tessieri
landed in Venezuela he had only rather shallow contacts but he would soon get to
know the major Venezuelan wholesalers (of which there are no more than six or
seven) that control the entire cocoa market. However, it would be unthinkable to
approach them talking about differences in quality between one cocoa and another
or between one plantation and another. “They believe that all Venezuelan cocoa
is high quality. This,” says Alessio, “was the prevailing mood at the time.” For
advice, Tessieri turned to an agricultural development agency run by the
Venezuelan department of agriculture. He wanted to identify the areas with the
most prestigious and sought-after genetic qualities, indigenous plants with the
greatest aromatic content. But not even the agricultural department was of much
help. In the meantime, he met the first of his three Venezuelan agronomists, the
man who would “light his way”, one of the greatest global experts on Criollo
cocoa. Thus, the Cacao Criollo s.a.
was set up, a subsidiary of the Amedei company. And so began Tessieri's race to
secure for himself most valuable and valued cocoa beans in all of
Venezuela. Like the fine Porcelana
beans (pure Criollo cocoa that Amedei buys up right down to the last bean)
cultivated in the area of Sur del lag de Maracaibo, in the area bordering on
Colombia. An at-risk area due to
the contiguousness with other and more profit yielding
plantations.
Negotiating with the impresa campesina
Tessieri finally visited
Chuao accompanied by his agronomist.
He wanted to see for himself if it was just a myth or if the promised
Chuao quality lived up to its legend. When he brought samples of it back to
Italy for the third time, Alessio and his sister Cecilia (she is the one who
translates cocoa's aromatic qualities into excellent chocolate), they knew that
they had to have this cocoa at all costs. “We found an aroma that was greatly
reminiscent of ripe red fruit and plum preserves, with an extremely delicate
aftertaste,” says Cecilia. "A highly complex and sophisticated aroma lacking any
trace of acidity." Thus, Alessio
attempted to negotiate with a single wholesaler who was the sole merchant for
Chuao. He made an appointment in the merchant's offices in Caracas and when
Tessieri asked for a batch of that cocoa, he was not taken very seriously. "I
think he thought I enjoyed being a cocoa-tourist." The merchant had to believe him when a
second time, Alessio insisted. "You've got nerve" was the response he was given.
At this point, Tessieri decided to go Chuao himself and negotiate directly with
the president of the Impresa
campesina. He brought his
agronomists with him to the village to explain his proposal to the
villagers. Tessieri laid his offer
down on the table of the "offices" at the Hacienda: 4 dollars per kilo against the $1.30 per
kilo paid by that merchant. He also agreed to assume the debts that the farm had
contracted with the merchant. But most importantly, he ensured that one of his
agronomists would supervise the plantation and bring its production back up to
acceptable levels: from the current level of 120/130 kilos per hectare to a
projected 250/300 kilos. Then he
dictated three conditions summarised in a production protocol for fermentation
and drying. Since cocoa is like a sponge it will absorb any external odour. Similar to wine, it takes on its aroma
from the soil: if you put wine down to ferment in good wood, it will take on the
characteristics of that wood. If you leave it to dry on asphalt, it will absorb
the taste of pitch (this is what happens in other countries where farmers steal
pieces of asphalt to dry out their tiny harvests). This is why Julio Marrufo,
one of Tessieri's agronomists, would stay in the area to supervise that the job
was done right. Isn't it true then, like Alessio says, that superior quality is
achieved only when you control the farm?
The farm's board met, examined Tessieri's conditions and requests, and
after lengthy talks, agreed to the partnership.
The contract was signed
on 3 November 2000 before a notary public in Maracay. The agricultural company
agreed to deliver all the cocoa grown in Chuao to the Amedei company for seven
years, after which time, Amedei would still have rights to first-refusal
regarding the price. However, as
imagined, harassment was not long in coming. Special
favours and cases of beer dispatched to the farmers were not successful in
corrupting them. Even the Venezuelan government, led by Ugo Chavez began to
make investigations into the affair, after all, Chuao is a national treasure. It
would be as if Montalcino suddenly was sold off to another country. Tessieri
assured the agricultural minister, explained his conditions, and exhibited the
contract signed with the Hacienda.
The operation was presented twice,
more equitable and solid
than ever. "Perhaps a government official would never have come to explain to
the farmers how to bring the plantation up to a more acceptable level of
productivity?" Tessieri asked himself.
In any event, the contract is legal but, a technicality can always be
found somewhere. For instance, the soil under the Hacienda is owned by the state
and the villagers with this state have a debt so they can use the plantation …
In the meantime, Valrhona depleted its stores of chocolate, producing a
chocolate bar made with pure Chuao cocoa which bears the following writing on
its label: for every bar sold, one Franc will be donated to the impresa
campesina in order to support the development and growth of the cocoa. But once
all the stores have been depleted, it is better not to trust any Chuao that is
not labelled Amedei. Excerpted from the monthly GAMBERO ROSSO - October
2001
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