In Search of the World’s Finest Cocoa
Far from the major trade routes, the village of Chuao on Venezuela’s Caribbean coast preserves the tradition of Criollo cocoa - one of the rarest and most coveted cocoa varieties in the world. A visit to the heart of Venezuela’s cocoa culture reveals how tradition, nature, and passion intertwine - and how fragile this balance is.
Accessible only by boat or after hours of hiking, Chuao feels like a place untouched by time. The air is filled with birdsong and the soft rustling of the forest, while bright red and yellow cocoa pods stand out against the dense green foliage. Women with woven baskets carefully harvest the ripe fruit, cutting them with machetes and stacking them on the ground.
While the robust Forastero variety, known for its neutral flavor and resilience, dominates the global cocoa market, Chuao has preserved the centuries-old tradition of growing Criollo cocoa. This rare, "native" variety grows in only a few places worldwide and accounts for just 5% of the global cocoa harvest. With its mild taste and rich aroma profile, Criollo is considered one of the finest cocoa varieties. "Every bean we harvest tells a piece of history," says Irene Liendo, president of the Chuao cooperative Empresa Campesina de Chuao, pointing to the plants that form the foundation of the village’s cocoa culture.
"Can you taste the fruit?" Liendo asks, opening a cocoa pod and offering a piece of the pulp. The flavor is sweet and complex, with notes of mango and a hint of soursop. Unlike industrial monoculture farms, cocoa in Chuao grows among fruit trees, creating a natural ecosystem that enriches the soil and gives Criollo cocoa its distinctive aroma.
Equality at the Core
It takes five to seven years for a cocoa tree to bear its first fruit. Each pod is carefully hand-harvested, the beans extracted from the pulp, and then fermented in wooden vats under banana leaves—a process that has remained unchanged in Chuao for over 300 years. Liendo, the cooperative’s president, also works in the fields. "Everyone contributes," she emphasizes.
The cooperative operates on a sustainable and egalitarian model. Leadership positions are reelected every two years, and wages are equal for all members—whether they work in the fields or handle bookkeeping. Tasks such as harvesting, fermentation, drying, and sorting are rotated among members, ensuring a fair distribution of work and strengthening the sense of community.
After fermentation, the beans are sun-dried for several days in front of the village church—a scene emblematic of Chuao. The drying process takes place in different phases: from rough surfaces where the beans are first spread out to smooth concrete slabs where they complete their final resting stage.
"When you do it with love, it turns out well," says Mariache, who comes from a long family tradition of cocoa farming. She is the third generation in her family to work with cocoa in Chuao and hopes that her grandchildren will one day carry on the tradition. "It’s more than work—it’s our history."
Cocoa as Identity
Criollo cocoa from Chuao enjoys worldwide recognition, yet with an annual production of just 20 tons, it remains an exclusive commodity. It holds a protected designation of origin, ensuring its authenticity. "We produce small quantities, but quality is what matters," says Alcide Herrera, son of the first president of the local cooperative. This allows Chuao cocoa to be marketed at a premium price.
For the people of Chuao, cocoa is more than an agricultural product—it represents their identity. "Many say the secret of Chuao is the soil. I believe it also has a lot to do with our craftsmanship," Herrera explains. "Cocoa is our pride, our history, and our future." Even during colonial times, this exceptional cocoa was highly valued. Herrera calls it "the best in the world."
He recalls stories from his father about the days when cocoa was Venezuela’s most important export. However, with the rise of the oil industry, cocoa production was neglected, and many plantations were abandoned. Today, the cooperative keeps the tradition alive, continuing to work by hand using traditional methods. "We can’t process cocoa any other way because its quality is unique and deeply rooted in our history," says Herrera. All of Chuao’s cocoa is exported to a Japanese company, which distributes it to chocolatiers in Europe, Japan, and the United States.
Challenges of Change
The community knows its heritage is at risk. Climate change is leading to an increase in empty or moldy beans, while economic instability makes production more difficult. "We work with what nature gives us—without chemicals, without large machines—but that also makes us vulnerable," explains Herrera. There is also the constant risk that lower-quality cocoa could be mixed with Chuao’s, potentially damaging its reputation.
Leyda Lavera, who has worked in the cooperative for 20 years, sits at a plastic table, inspecting each bean. With a trained eye, she points to a bean with a white discoloration. "These defects were rare before, but we’re seeing them more often now." Excessive rain causes white spots on the beans, while hot summers produce empty shells—both of which reduce the already limited yield. Sorting out defective beans is a meticulous process, but the women of the cooperative know that quality is their greatest asset.
Without the Recognition It Deserves
"Venezuela has more potential than any other country," says Sander Koenen, a Dutch chocolatier who has lived in Caracas for over twenty years and runs a chocolate workshop. While countries like Ecuador have modernized their cocoa production and successfully marketed it worldwide, Venezuela lags behind. "It’s a shame that other countries have already claimed the title of the world’s best cocoa and taken all the credit—when, in reality, it all started here."
Koenen is passionate about Venezuela’s extraordinary cocoa diversity. "There are over 45 varieties of native cocoa beans here—a treasure that creates chocolates bursting with flavor." Yet, he worries about the government’s neglect of agriculture and growing competition from abroad. "If Venezuela doesn’t take advantage of this potential, it will continue to fall behind countries like Ecuador and never receive the recognition it deserves," he warns. He compares the situation to Colombia’s coffee industry: "A century ago, Venezuela was known for the best coffee. But Colombia took the plants, adapted them, and built a global brand. The same could happen to our cocoa."
He highlights how Ecuador has successfully marketed its cocoa as the best in the world while Venezuela struggles to keep up. In his workshop, Koenen occasionally works with Chuao’s exclusive cocoa, creating chocolate bars, cakes, and pralines with flavors like "Rhum Orange" and "Spicy Mix." He explains that his recipes are inspired by childhood memories and family traditions. His machines date back to his grandfather, who played a role in shaping Dutch chocolate culture.
Koenen firmly believes that quality is the key to the future of Venezuelan cocoa. "People need to learn how to maximize the potential of their crops to preserve and guarantee this quality." As he carefully inspects freshly molded chocolates, it becomes clear that his work is not just about craftsmanship but also a deep conviction in Venezuela’s untapped potential.