Mary Luz Mejia, Artsci’93, has a job that would be the envy of many – she’s a certified chocolate taster.
Mary Luz Mejia’s journalism career earned her Gemini and NATJA award nominations for her work in food, travel, and beyond. But a lifelong love of chocolate led her to the prestigious International Institute of Chocolate and Cacao Tasting, where she became Canada’s first Level III Certified Taster. Today, she judges international chocolate competitions, runs curated tastings, teaches, and writes about the craft chocolate movement. It’s a career path that blends storytelling, sensory education, and a deep respect for food traditions and different cultures.
We have to start with the question everyone will have – how did you become a chocolate taster?
I’ve always enjoyed chocolate but had no clue there was such a thing as a certified “chocolate taster.” It happened by accident. I was a TV producer/writer/director for years, working on a Food Network Canada show called At the Table With … [one of the first chef-bio doc series at the time]. Maricel Presilla was my subject. She’s got over 30 years of experience in the world of cacao and is one of the International Institute of Chocolate and Cacao Tasting’s founders. It started with her suggesting that I lead the Canadian leg of the International Chocolate Awards (which I did), and then meeting fellow founders Martin Christy and Monica Meschini and learning about the courses the institute provides.
You’ve been a storyteller in journalism, food TV, and now chocolate. How is tasting chocolate like telling a great story?
A well-crafted bean-to-bar chocolate, that is, a bar made from the fermented and dried beans of one of the farms around the world growing cacao, should always tell a good story. It starts with how those beans were grown, where, and by whom. Then it’s about the sheen of the bar, its snap (which tells us how it was tempered), the aroma (is it true to the origin?), and, most deliciously, how does it taste? We suggest “melt don’t munch” a bar because munching means you lose the evolution of flavours that good cacao offers. In a well-made fine chocolate bar, you might start by tasting a well-pulled espresso flavour coming through, replaced by red berries and, finally, a citrusy note – all of this without the addition of artificial flavourings of any kind. Flavours perceived from good chocolate should reveal themselves as the natural expression of that cacao, along with the alchemy of the grower and chocolate maker who produce the final bar.
You are Canada’s first Level III Certified Taster. What skills from your training have most changed the way you experience chocolate?
I had to unlearn the habit of simply chomping my chocolate and instead learn to savour it. Now, I think of good chocolate like a fine wine or a truly exceptional piece of cheese. You want to enjoy these, not gulp or chew them quickly.
Queen’s does not have a chocolate sommelier course. How did your studies at Queen’s prepare you for this unique position?
I studied history at Queen’s and loved exploring different periods in each class, from early Mesoamerica to the Second World War and beyond. Those courses taught me to analyze, think critically, and process large amounts of information quickly, all while developing a clear point of view. That skill set proved useful when I began learning about the big, wide world of cacao. It’s a subject you can dive into from so many angles, whether it’s the chemistry of chocolate, the genetics of cacao beans, its socio-political impact on countries, the business of craft chocolate making, or the way flavour is studied, much like a sommelier studies wine. After Queen’s, I went to journalism school, and now I write extensively about cacao, a perfect way to combine two passions.
If you could design a chocolate inspired by Queen’s, what would it taste like?
It would be a dark milk bar (so that’s about 60 per cent cacao with some milk powder added in; I call it the gateway bar to dark chocolate. So many convert to dark after giving dark milk a go!), likely with cacao from Tumaco in Colombia. I’d choose this cacao because it’s creamy, dreamy, and tastes like the best bite of chocolate cake. I’d top the bar with candied maple walnut pieces and toffee nibs. I’d be tempted to call the bar The Royal Charter Bar, relating to Queen Victoria’s founding of the school via royal charter in 1841. A little bit Scottish, a little bit Canadian, with cacao from South America equals 100 per cent Queen’s.
Chocolate is not all sweetness – cacao farming and chocolate making raise challenging questions about labour, fair trade, and the environment. How can we all balance celebrating chocolate’s artistry with addressing the ethics of its production?
My advice? Buy locally, buy from a Canadian bean-to-bar maker and vote with your wallet. Every time you divert funds from one of the big candy bar makers and instead try Hummingbird Chocolate from Almonte, Ont., or DesBarres in Uxbridge, Sirene in Victoria, B.C., JACOBEAN from Newfoundland, Qantu, Avaana, Allo Simmone, or État de choc from Montreal, SOMA, ChocoSol, or Chachalate (a Queen’s alumnus owns this one!) from Toronto, for example, you’re supporting award-winning, Canadian-based, quality chocolate makers who care about who grows their beans (slave-free) and deliver delicious bars to you, the buyer.
It’s been said that chocolate is happiness that you can eat. Why do we love chocolate – and why do you love chocolate?
I have loved chocolate since I was a kid. My father hated the stuff, which I never, ever understood. To me, chocolate has always been a sweet escape; even a mood booster. As I get older, I choose 75 per cent dark chocolate – less sugar and more phytonutrients and anti-inflammatory properties while still delivering layers of flavour (I know, I’m starting to sound like an old lady here but, hey, you asked!). Chocolate is also a sensory journey that takes you to places where the Orinoco River flows, or into the Andean highlands where criollo beans grow wild, for example. It tells the story of the land and the people who grew it, the traditions behind it, and the chocolate maker whose craft and technique turn the raw product, cacao beans, into luxurious treats that almost anyone can enjoy.
OK, the ultimate question – dark, milk, or white? (And tell us why!)
I prefer dark or dark milk chocolate because it contains more cacao (the good stuff) compared to sugar and other ingredients. Fun fact: most people choose milk chocolate because it reminds them of childhood. Who can blame them? But for me, there’s something captivating about a bar made with more cacao. It’s richer, offers more chocolate flavour notes, and there’s nowhere to hide. You’ve either got excellent cacao beans that are grown properly, dried, and well-fermented and well-prepared (sorted, winnowed, roasted, conched, etc.), or you don’t. It’s harder to conceal the flaws. Big corporations try to do so with over-roasting, the addition of sugar and vanilla or vanillin, but that’s not the chocolate I’m talking about here. I love a bright, fruity, citrusy cacao. I’ve found those in some Peruvian, Tanzanian, Madagascan and Indian cacao beans. Cacao continues to be a world of discovery, with chocolate makers using local ingredients like Taiwanese black sugar or Canadian maple flakes to sweeten their bars. I am forever tasting and learning, and that’s half the fun.
