After a meal of Chinese cuisine (and I invoke the French-derived word on purpose, because the food wasn't especially "Chinese-y") and a viewing of a peculiar film called Une Petite Zone de Turbulences, my friends and I took the metro over to the Tuileries stop where we settled ourselves down at Angelina, home of France's best hot chocolate.
I should qualify, or at least explain that sentence. I do have the upper hand here, so I know I shouldn't drop a superlative bomb like "the best" without explanation, especially when my devil's advocates are denied an immediate response. My first qualification: you have to love chocolate. I'm not talking about the person who, upon an intermittent craving of chocolate, pops a bite-sized candy bar, cracks off a piece of a chocolate bar, or even has a sliver of cake. My audience for this statement is a lover of chocolate. A true choco-phile who has, on more than one occasion, gotten chocolate all over his or her clothes because of the melted flecks that break off when one inhales a bar and disregards the mess. I'm talking to the lover of cocoa who has finished off an entire bar of chocolate in less than a half an hour and then, despite the guilt and accompanying stomach-ache, craves more. I'm talking to anyone who can stomach 2-3 large servings of my mother's amazing flour-less chocolate cake in one sitting. To you I say: make your pilgrimage to Angelina for the best hot cocoa in France.
Now let me explain. Angelina is a Salon du Thé, which is a little misleading because the star player on the menu is the hot cocoa. The critics of this beverage say that one can put ones spoon in Angelina's hot cocoa and it'll stand up on its own. The lovers of this beverage say "yeah! Isn't that great?" The white mug is accompanied by a small pitcher full of hot cocoa, enough for about 2-3 cups, depending on how much you drink at a time. Some of the bravest choco-philes I've witnessed only made it to about half a pitcher. The hot chocolate is so rich, creamy, and pure that you're not left with dregs (or worse--the unstirred cocoa powder, which of course doesn't exist at Angelina's) at the end, but rather the slowly solidifying beginnings of a bar of milk chocolate as rich as Cadbury's. Not being a waster of such precious goods, I decided to order a vanilla ice cream (the best dessert choice to accompany the hot cocoa, if I may say so, as it compliments the hot with cold and the chocolate with vanilla) and pour some of the hot cocoa over it. Genius. Heaven.
There does come a point, though, where you must wipe your chocolate-lined lips, stand up, and say adieu to Angelina. This also comes with the uncomfortable task of paying the bill. Angelina is great, but it comes at a price. The hot cocoa, at a very reasonable (in my opinion) 6 euros, comes with some less-than-reasonable dessert prices (ranging from 2 euros to about 15 euros). But it's worth it in the end. This is not a place to go daily, nor even weekly. It's simply a café to experience and remember with fond, chocolate-covered memories.
