Chocolate making, trial run

One of the things I’ve always wanted to try is making my own chocolate. All right, maybe not always, but at least ever since I saw the movie “Chocolat”. And by making chocolate I mean more than just melting leftover chocolates and pouring the mass into molds, which is what I sometimes do.

But I’ve never quite known how and where to start and somehow never just got around to doing it. However, the other day a mysterious parcel arrived... I had no idea what it was, I hadn’t ordered anything, didn’t expect any package. It was a gift from a dear friend and it contained chocolate making materials! Wow. Just look at that gorgeous package:

There’s cocoa butter, agave syrup and cocoa powder with cocoa beans and some vanilla. And a pretty mold:

I was so excited!!! And very, very grateful to my friend who had decided to cheer me up with a surprise – and that she certainly did!

Now, I had to do some reading before I started, and I have to say I couldn’t quite figure out the correct ratio of each ingredient since every recipe I found was somewhat different. Some advised using extra virgin coconut oil in addition to cocoa butter, others used only cocoa butter. And the portions of each ingredient differed wildly. So I figured I’d start with a tiny, tiny batch and just... improvise. Which means that even though I started out measuring the ingredients, I kept adding this and that and in the end had no idea of how much I used each of them. Well. No matter. This was a trial run only, and yet, there are a couple of things I learned:

1. Cocoa butter, though it sounds delicious, doesn’t really have much of a flavour (yeah, of course I had to taste some, I was curious!).

2. If you add some coconut oil, you’ll end up with glossy chocolate that is easy to pour into the mold. However, the tasting jury strongly disliked the flavour of coconut oil.

3. If, however, you only use cocoa butter, the chocolate can become a little grainy (although that's mainly how it looked, the texture was fine when tasted) and less glossy. It also sets rather quickly – it was already becoming solid when I poured it into the mold (which explains the uneven look). I tried to warm it up gently, but to no avail. More experiments are needed to correct this. The taste, however, was far superior to that of the chocolate with coconut oil.

4. A little bit of agave syrup goes a long way, especially if you’re not trying to make very sweet chocolate.

5. If you give a seven-year-old free rein with decorative items to be added to chocolate, she’ll make an attempt to cover every inch of the chocolate rather than just sprinkle some here and there.

I wasn’t going to post a picture of the end result because I can’t get a decent photo (it’s too dark, so the chocolate looks kind of grey which it isn’t really) plus they don’t look particularly fabulous. :D And they're all in bits and pieces because, naturally, we had to sample some once soon as they were ready. However, since this was just a trial run and a learning experience, here we go...

As decorations/additives, we (my daughter was my (over-)enthusiastic assistant) used dried cranberries, bits of dried apricots and chopped almonds. The molds worked perfectly, it was very easy to get the finished chocolate out of them without breaking any.

This was a very interesting (and a very delicious) experiment and I’m already looking forward to giving it another try. Perhaps, next time, I’ll remember to measure the ingredients... And I already have soooo many ideas for different flavours! :)

Review: Chocolat by Joanne Harris

“Chocolat” sounds like the perfect book for a chocoholic like myself, and I was thrilled to find a copy in our local library (their collection of English books is small but somewhat eccentric; you never know what you're going to find. That's why I love going there - it's an adventure!). I saw the film based on the book some years ago, and remember it being a lovely feel-good movie that makes you want to try your hand in the art of chocolate making. But even though I was familiar with the story, I still wanted to read the book.

Vianne Rocher, a vagabond chocolatier, and her daughter settle in a small French town. As outsiders, they encounter prejudice and suspicion – but who could resist chocolate? With a bit of magic and lots of joie de vivre, lives are about to change...

The story has two narrators: Vianne with her sensuality and lust for life and the local priest, who sees chocolate (and indeed any and all enjoyment and indulgence) as something sinful. One of the novel's themes could be said to be Christianity vs paganism, but that is not at all everything this book is about. Prejudice/tolerance and belonging/rootlesness are other prevalent themes, as is finding courage to live (and, perhaps, to die) on your own terms.

The descriptions are beautiful and sensual (yes, you will crave pralines and truffles and chocolate cake and chocolate almonds and pain au chocolat and mocha with kahlua... and dozens of other mouth-watering treats). I especially loved the parts where chocolate, “the food of the gods - - - the bitter elixir of life” was described, and where cooking acquired an air of mysticism or a kind of alchemy:

“There is a kind of sorcery in all cooking: in the choosing of ingredients, the process of mixing, grating, melting, infusing and flavouring, the recipes taken from ancient books, the traditional utensils – the pestle and mortar with which my mother made her incense turned to more homely purpose, the spices and aromatics giving up their subtleties to a baser, more sensual magic. And it is partly the transience of it that delights me; so much loving preparation, so much art and experience put into a pleasure which can last only a moment, and which only a few will ever fully appreciate.”

(Sensual magic! I will remember that the next time cooking feels like a chore.) 

The novel has more depth than the film and is also more melancholy. The way that the characters are haunted by their past becomes more poignant, and the themes of love and loss, of having to give up something precious, are central. At the same time, though, it is a celebration of fleeting moments and reminds the reader of how important it is to enjoy those moments and life's little pleasures.

If I had to offer criticism, I'd say that the priest's narrative was somewhat repetetive (but then, I suspect that was on purpose: to underline his obsessive-compulsive thoughts) and, although the characters were interesting and complex, I never felt as close to any of them as I would have wished. Even so, "Chocolat" ranks as the best book I've read this year so far (and that makes me very happy: last year wasn't very good, book-wise - perhaps this one will be better!).

Like a luxury chocolate praline, this novel is sweet, delicious and satisfying – but also complex with some deeper, darker notes. It left me wanting more.