Paul’s Supply and My Demand

It is incumbent upon me to note that restricting the supply of a good generally increases the value derived in its marginal consumption. This is to say that when the desire for a particular hot chocolate is not easily satisfied due to scant availability, one may rank the hot chocolate higher than they would if the hot chocolate were available in excess. When sampling such a chocolate, how is the bias of exclusivity eliminated in order to evaluate the drink objectively? The answer is to be this House, for it refuses to let such exogenous variables cloud its preferences. Fear not, my dear reader: while the hot chocolate discussed here was curiously difficult to come by, I promise a fair and objective evaluation not biased by its limited supply.

I have chanced upon a chocolate with inconvenient economic properties: each time I order it, I want it more and more. The hot chocolate in question is from PAUL Le Café on Robson, although I am pleased to learn that, at time of writing, they have a second location at Georgia and Seymour. Good things ought to multiply. Much to my financial manager’s distress, this hot chocolate became easier to obtain.

I was first introduced to PAUL in a train station in Marseille. The marketing managers were quite clever when hopping across an ocean and opening a Vancouver location. They have convinced this city that PAUL is a sort of luxury café. In Europe, it is the exact sort of café that one would expect in a train station in Marseille. Nonetheless, I am pleased with the glamorous rebrand, for the Robson location is a delight to sit inside. I like to sit in the back salon with a warm, decadent cup of hot chocolate.

Tragedy occurred several times over at this café. I went many times only to find the hot chocolate unavailable. Disappointed to say the least, I inquired to the barista about the lack of supply. As I was impressed to hear, the hot chocolate could not be sold as PAUL’s hot chocolate is prepared with real chocolate shipped from France. From whatever trade delay hurting our dear economy, our hot chocolate economy was aching just the same. I subsequently took up the habit of calling the café every now and then to learn if the French chocolate supply had arrived. One day, I was lucky, and I made haste for this fine establishment.

The first thing I noticed was the expediency in which the drink was served. I believe a large amount of it is kept warm and continuously stirred for convenience. The drink was unusually shiny, catching the light from the window as I eagerly sat down. Then came the first sip. It was thick, smooth, and tasted purely of chocolate. These three elements are a recipe for easy success. Needless to say, I was immensely pleased.

The chocolate had a unique flavour, having undertones of fruit. I believe whatever chocolate used in its production is roasted at a lower temperature, thus trading caramel shades for notes of fruit and florals. I wish these intriguing flavours had slightly more room at centre stage, as they were forced to share the spotlight with a somewhat overpowering sweetness. Reduce the sweetness: that is my only critique.

PAUL, while seemingly existing as only a generous amount of chocolate melted into milk, is readily admitted into hot chocolate Heaven. Salvation can be simple, as is plainly demonstrated. My demand for this wonderful experience remains quite high; my prayer remains that supply might match it.