
“We were traveling in a Volkswagen van in Europe and we happen to go into a chocolate store in Paris,” Prinz told The Times of Israel, as a suited waiter slid two espresso shot-sized glasses of Guayaquil - a creamy hot chocolate infused with subtle notes of Madagascar vanilla - across the table. Rabbi Deborah Prinz points out different chocolates at La Maison du Chocolat, perhaps the holiest site for cocoa lovers on the Upper East Side (Danielle Ziri/ Times of Israel)īut perhaps the choco-dar’s most significant performance was in a Paris shop when Prinz randomly discovered the connection between two things she loves: Chocolate and Jews.
Not only does that chocolatey alcove now supply their everyday cacao needs, it is also bigger than their apartment. To their surprise, the nearby shop included an entire room devoted exclusively to chocolate. The choco-dar also played a role in Prinz and her husband’s decision to move to a studio apartment in New York, although they only realized it six months after moving in, when the corner grocery store reopened after a major renovation. Like a sixth sense, the “choco-dar” has, over the years, led Prinz to Turin in Italy, where she had an unforgettable Bicerin, a three-layered drink of chocolate, coffee and cream it caused her to stumble upon the headquarters for the famous Valrhona chocolate company during a road trip in France and in Spain, a choco-dar alert had her chance upon a medieval monks’ chocolate room while visiting a monastery. “And it leads me to interesting chocolate experiences - not only the opportunity to taste wonderful things, but also to learn.” I can’t control it, it just happens,” Prinz said.

Over the last 12 years, that appreciation has even developed into an almost inexplicable attraction - a sort of internal radar that homes in on subjects and places related to what some have dubbed the “food of the gods.” Prinz calls it the “choco-dar.”


But Prinz’s appreciation for chocolate itself only came as an adult.
