Salon du Chocolat

Women and Chocolate.
Now that I have your attention, those two are what made Salon du Chocolate mind-blowing. A convention of Willy Wonkonian proportions was made even more amazing by the presence of a “chocolate fashion show” which is precisely what you think it is. I would post the video I took if I could (it is complete with commentary: starting with the sound of our mouth dropping, calls to the models not to leave, and the final note that it was just dudes now so we should go).
The event started out on a worrisome note, as Justin and I arrived we were promptly lost in the exclusively French speaking crowds. Severely lacking chocolate, despite being surrounded by little else, we were completely unable to obtain ANY, and it was killing us. Then we happened across the fashion show that made us happy, and our asses were grabbed by Nîna and Lulu, who became the Oompa Loompa’s on our tour of Wonka Land. We witnessed impressive novel arrangements (sea coral motifs were the trend), incredible gourmet presentations, and superb chocolate dishes served every way imaginable, and then a few more ways. We consequently over-dosed on them, but to a comfortable degree. Walking out of Ponte de Versailles, full of and covered in chocolate, we headed to Montparnasse, with its abomination of a ski scraper: a hideous behemoth scarring the otherwise picturesque Parisian city-scape.
We had a great time out; we went to a movie and then had an Indian dinner.