The luscious aroma of chocolate fills the Neuhaus chocolate boutique in Bruges, as the saleswoman tempts me with a ‘dark chocolate praline filled with vanilla fresh cream on a layer of caramel, with a hint of black samba tea’. The artisanal fare — packaged in what looks like jewellery boxes, complete with a bow — comes in a variety of tempting flavours. If you could sample just one, would you go for a bite-sized fondant filled with ‘coffee cream infused with Szechuan pepper’, or a sinful ‘almond coated crust filled with cognac butter-cream’?

I bite into a chocolate bonbon, whose delicate milk-chocolate casing breaks open and coats my palate with a zesty citrus-cream; as it lingers there, I taste a hint of cinnamon. I am addicted and, right on cue, the saleswoman reveals her pitch: nobody makes ’em better because it was the proprietor, Jean Neuhaus, who paved the way for the praline.

In what can only be called a ‘bitter-sweet enterprise’, the Swiss immigrant had first set up an apothecary in Brussels in 1857 and, later, to make the medicines go down easier he coated them with chocolate. In 1912, his grandson went further with the idea and eliminated the meds. And the Pralz, or ‘Belgian praline’ — a chocolate shell filled with goodness — was born. (The French’s claim that a version of pralines already existed in their nation is hotly debated even today in the many beer bars dotting Belgium.)

In Bruges, a bustling city in West Flanders, Belgium, you could spend entire days flitting from one candy store to the next, lured in by their heady aromas. You may also want to sign up for a workshop at Choco Story, a chocolate museum that informs you that it’s the higher cocoa content and pure cocoa butter (often 100 per cent) that give Belgian chocolate its distinct flavour. At the end of the workshop you can walk out with bagfuls of your own hand-made creations.

However, it was in the East Flanders port-city of Ghent — an hour’s drive from Bruges — that I came across yet another Belgian sweet-sensation: the cuberdon.

Ghent harks back to the Middle Ages with its Gravensteen castle, the imposing St Bavo’s Cathedral (a must-visit for art lovers for its unique altar-piece — ‘Adoration of the mystic lamb’ by the Van Eyck brothers), and the old belfry. I walk down the cobbled streets of Groentenmarkt, in the historic city-centre, which once had an execution yard. Today it boasts a farmer’s market with fruit stalls, delightful confectionery stores, and more. I buy a bottle of pungent mustard from Tierenteyn-Verlent, one of the oldest producers in this region. But the biggest crowds are in front of two small carts. I go closer and find them dishing out colourful candy — it’s the ‘rode neuzen’ or ‘red nose’, a local informs me helpfully, and it is also called ‘neuzeke’ or ‘little nose’, thanks to its shape. My quirky guide-book reveals more about the origin of the pyramid-shaped candy, and it again involves a medicine-man and a happy accident.

De Vynck, a local pharmacist, had made a batch of cough syrup that went bad — it became hard on the outside, with a liquid centre. Inspired by the unusual consistency, De Vynck decided to make candy and opened the first cuberdon store in Ghent in 1873. The original recipe remains near-intact even today: gum arabic for the semi-hard exterior; sugar, glucose, and natural flavouring (raspberry, lemon, apple) for the juicy filling. Other stories credit the candy’s origin to an unnamed monk in Bruges, who was supposedly inspired by his own hat, thereby becoming known also as ‘bonnet de cure’ or ‘priest’s hat’.

I watch the children gathered around the carts to learn the right way to eat a cuberdon: I hold up the pointed edge of a deep purple neuzeke to the air. Then I bite off the tip, and a thick, deliciously sticky raspberry filling gushes into my mouth. Only after I’ve savoured the flavour do I chew the outer sugar-drizzled gummy shell. The yellow cuberdons are flavoured in tangy lemon; the green is a liquid green apple. I quickly realise that you can’t stop at just one.

And it was the profitable nature of the business that saw the infamous ‘war of the noses’ break out on this very street, not too long ago. Newspaper accounts reveal that in 2011, fierce competition saw two dealers come to blows, and their licences were suspended for a period by the mayor. Vendors Sonny Breine and Carl Demeestere are now back on the street and vying for your business.

Belgian pralines, beer and waffles are the favourite draws in this European nation (not to mention the diamonds of Antwerp). But if you’re looking for 19th-century Flemish folklore, more recent history of bizarre brawls, or simply a taste of something sweet sans cocoa, this tiny ‘hat’ holds it all.

Kiran Mehta is a journalist based in Mumbai

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