The storefront could almost be mistaken for an art gallery, sparse and white with timber accents and curated selections of thoughtfully arranged and visually appealing objects. But the back room at État de Choc, the ultrahip chocolatier on Saint-Laurent Boulevard and Beaubien, does rather resemble a factory.
This chocolate factory, however, is more Andy Warhol than Roald Dahl — clean, austere, industrial. It’s the sort of environment one might imagine engaged in narcotics production, vacuum-sealed sacks of bulk product piled up on metallic shelving and the faint wisp of burnt sugar in the air.
Maud Gaudreau, État de Choc’s proprietor and de facto sovereign, then, is one part Willy Wonka and one part Tony Montana. Undeniably, she’s got the choicest stash.
“We only work with the world’s best chocolate. We don’t make compromises,” Gaudreau beams from behind her office desk. “We work with a lot of local suppliers, like Qantu. For me they make the best chocolate. Also, Chocolats Monarque and Avanaa. We really wanted to be transparent and showcase what they do.”
I first noticed État de Choc because of its distinctive flavour combinations: chocolate with corn nuts, sponge toffee, lemon nougat. Then I noticed the price tag, which, if you will pardon another pun, induced a bout of sticker choc, single slabs ringing in at 12 to 15 dollars or more.
I bought one, of course. And yet I didn’t feel suckered because, to my delight, it did happen to be the best chocolate I had ever tasted.
“It’s really not cheap,” admits Gaudreau. “That’s what some people don’t understand. We pay a big price to buy our chocolate. We make less money than some others that make cheap chocolate. Everything we do is handmade. Same thing for our packaging.”
And that’s the other remarkable feature — État de Choc’s eye-catching aesthetic. Gaudreau’s chocolate bars are wrapped with thick goldleaf paper and packaged in cardstock emblazoned with a heraldic crest the celebrated graphic artist Charles Daoud designed. There’s the flag, too, a tricolour insignia that declares its independence. “We are the state of chocolate,” Gaudreau proclaims.
“That’s one of the parts that I really like, the design,” she says. “I didn’t know if there was going to be a market — if people were ready to spend 12 dollars on chocolate. So that’s why I knew I had to have a great brand for this. I love packaging. I used to organize raves back in the day, and I loved the flyers. The Valentine’s Day bar we have, for example, is called ‘Amour Techno,’ designed by Le Gars de Prod to look like a rave flyer.”
Gaudreau describes herself as a “Technohead” originating from Montreal’s East End during the heyday of 1990s dance music culture. “The best years were ‘95, ’96,” Gaudreau recalls. “I’m really glad I was able to live that period. I have some friends who still go out. But now I don’t have time for anything. I work seven days a week.”
Hard work is the cornerstone of any successful enterprise, and Gaurdreau is not afraid to commit herself wholeheartedly to excellence. She attained an MBA and helmed her family’s business before landing as the manager at Geneviève Grandbois, the storied chocolatier on Saint-Viateur that sadly closed its doors after 20 years.
“It was not my plan to open a new business,” Gaudreau explains. “But I had a sweet tooth and I really loved chocolate. I didn’t know it was like third-wave coffee or tea or things like that. I didn’t know there was a movement. And then I discovered the bean-to-bar movement.”
Bean-to-bar is an ethical and sustainable trade model in which the manufacturer controls all aspects of production — from the procurement of beans to the creation of the end product.
“No chocolatier in Montreal used the bean-to-bar method to create their own recipes, so I saw an opportunity there,” says Gaudreau. “I knew how to manage a business. I knew how to get some financing. Everything was there. And then Stéphanie Bélanger, Grandbois’s chief chocolatier, wanted to leave. And she said, ‘if you want to open your store, we’re ready.’”
État de Choc has been around for more than five years and is only gaining in popularity, partnering with local retailers Le Petit Dep and Olive and Gourmando, and making bespoke truffles for high-profile clients like the Museum of Fine Arts Foundation’s Fundraising Ball in November.
“Last year, for the corporate gifts, we didn’t even have time to solicit,” says Gaudreau. “Everyone came to us. People have contacted me if I want to open other stores.”
For the time being, though, Gaudreau is pleased with the state of her chocolate factory. “I’m lucky that I have a perfect team right now,” she says. “Maybe in a few years, we will move production somewhere else and use the store for workshops,” which are currently held monthly.
And Gaudreau is planning to receive her Level 3 Certification in Italy this April at the annual International Institute of Chocolate and Cacao Tasting conference.
“They’re the organization that organizes the chocolate awards, too,” Gaudreau tells me. “There are not too many people in Canada who have Level 3, so it would be good for me. And also, to create some contacts. We have bars from all around the world. But I’d like some chocolate makers to come here, too.”
I broach the connection between chocolate and sensuality and Gaudreau blushes. “Maybe it’s the sweetness, the texture,” she laughs. “It’s associated with pleasure. You can use your own imagination.”
I imagine it’s because the chocolate bar is monolithic. There is something otherworldly in its smoothness, its flatness, its precision, its perfection. And yet chocolate is so fundamental. It comes from a raw form and is refined and refined again, alchemically transformed, black gold.
Making chocolate also requires a brave sense of passion.
“In the beginning,” Gaudreau says, “you can’t afford to take risks. But when you’re established, it pays off. We’re considered the experts in chocolate now. It’s fun. It’s never easy, but it’s fun.”◼︎
État de Choc, 6466 Boulevard Saint-Laurent.
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