‘Maddie’s’ pin collection wows

Going against the grain works better for some than for others. For Madeleine Albright, that meant adorning her suits with distinctly political decorative pins. One of my friends, who was lucky enough to have dinner with Madeleine Albright (whom she now calls “Maddie” as if they’re old friends) last week, learned about the power her jewelry had in conveying foreign policy messages during her time as U.S. Secretary of State for the Clinton administration. Maddie’s pin plug was no coincidence, since her pins are on display through January at the Museum of Art and Design in the “Read My Pins” exhibit.

It all started when an Iraqi newspaper referred to her as an “unparalleled serpent.” She adorned her next suit with a snake pin. Pins and broaches are accessories most associated with family heirlooms—dusty old trinkets that are too outdated to make or break an outfit. This woman found a way to differentiate herself from the male-dominated pack in a tasteful way.

These subversive pins, which range in materials from simple tarnished golden frames to Swarovski crystal, pearl, and diamond encrusted Oscar jewelry are on display in a row of cases on the second floor of the MAD. More than 200 pins are organized by category.

Sea life pins were a signal to other diplomats to speed up discussion, butterflies indicated a potential for transformation, and birds, particularly owls, implied watchfulness and a readiness to swoop into action at a moment’s notice. Bold statements were made during negotiations with Kim Jong-il through an enormous rhinestoned American flag, in a country where all images must be of him.

Satisfied with the sights of Maddie’s tasteful broaches, I left the exhibit and made my way across the park to La Maison du Chocolat.

Chocolate purists rave about 100 percent cacao as a complete chocolate experience. It is produced entirely without sugar. The chocolatier at La Maison showed me the Coro, the 100 percent dark chocolate I had come for, and a Pariguan 69 percent bar for comparison.

Both were splurges—the Pariguan weighed in at $8 and the 100% cacao Coro at a whopping $11. The Pariguan tasted like any other dark chocolate I had had before, dark and definitely floral, although probably not any tastier or more floral than the Scharffen Berger at Milano or Westside.

To be honest, the Coro was nauseating. Maybe my palate just isn’t cultured enough to appreciate its brilliance, but I doubt it. The chocolatier told me that the Pariguan would have “a very floral flavor” while the Coro would have a “very earthy flavor.” And she wasn’t kidding. The earthy flavor she warned me about was not warning enough. It was the earthy texture that made it seem like the manufacturer literally grated cacao beans (and dirt—probably more dirt than cacao) into a powder, compressed the powder into a semi-cohesive mass, and called it a chocolate bar.

Neither my two friends nor I made it past one small nibble on one small square of the bar. At first, it has no taste at all, but that mildness was probably due to the lack of added ingredients (no sugar, no butter—nothing). Its neutrality was quickly erased by a harsh aftertaste that was anything but all-natural. In fact, it barely tasted organic at all. I needed to chase it with something sweet and flavorful to rid my mouth of the jarring bitterness of the Coro.

Madeleine Albright used her femininity as the first female Secretary of State to assert her power by wearing pins. She was subversive, slightly contrarian, and improved on the old by making it her own. While chocolate production isn’t exactly as critically important as international, it still requires taste and discretion, which are both missing from the 100% Coro. It’s not La Maison du Chocolat’s fault. I am a huge proponent for pushing the envelope and moving towards the future, but chocolate is already delicious. And, hey, why fix what’s not broken?

Elyssa Goldberg is a Columbia College sophomore. Gallereat runs alternate Fridays.

Tags: Arts & Entertainment, Elyssa Goldberg