Competitive Chocolate

The final section of Ewald Notter's The Art of the Chocolatier is focused on chocolate showpieces and includes a chapter specifically on creating a showpiece for competition. There are pages of colour theory, shapes and their meanings, and guidelines for size and proportion. The result is an excellent resource for the design and execution of a competitive chocolate showpiece. 

Most interesting, perhaps, is Notter's advice for preparing for competition. He emphasizes that mental preparation is critical for success and that it's important to create a support network of friends, family, and coworkers. As one "trains" for competition (yes, trains), Notter suggests that one choose the right competition (level, style), gain experience by volunteering (or seeking out a mentor), research the venue and event (for supplies to bring, as well as temperature and humidity levels), learn about the judges (for their tastes and preferences), and understand the rules (theme, purpose, ingredients permitted, etc). 

All solid advice. I admit, however, that I find the image of "training" for a chocolate competition to be a bit humorous. In my head, I see a Rocky Balboa-type getting ready for the fight of his life in the kitchen. The truth is, sometimes tempering chocolate can feel like a battle...

I would imagine that anyone entering a competition has to be confident that they can nail the temper of chocolate every time, regardless of the kitchen conditions. And this is something that only comes with repetition and time. I also expect that the various techniques to be employed would be executed over and over again to ensure success while under pressure. And part of the training would surely involve making various components within particular time limits to ensure the entire piece can be created, assembled, and finished in the time allocated. In short, I suppose practice would make perfect -- and go a long way to building that mental preparation and confidence required to perform under pressure. 

In my opinion, however, Notter missed out on the true key to success: good footwear. I can say from personal experience that long hours on one's feet while working with chocolate can lead to excruciating back pain, so you wouldn't catch me in a chocolate competition without a trusty pair of Birkenstocks.

Actually, you'll never catch me in a competition. I abhor competition. I find watching competitions like Great Chocolate Showdown and School of Chocolate to be terribly stressful -- so I can't imagine what it would be like to actually be on the show, your every move and misstep caught on camera! 

But that doesn't mean I wouldn't try making a chocolate showpiece. I could imagine doing one in the future as a fundraiser for a charity or a show-stopping dessert on a special occasion. Or just a random chocolate adventure! After all, this haunted house in Notter's book really speaks to me, so I may need to enlarge the templates provided and give it a go at some point in the future!

Big (Broken) Promises?

After trying Hummingbird Chocolate for the first time a few weeks ago, I thought I should try new chocolate more often. So, while strolling the aisles of Bulk Barn, purchasing spices for new culinary adventures, I paused at the chocolate section and reviewed my options. 

Pre-pandemic, I remember Bulk Bark having a much more diverse selection of chocolate bars. Now, however, their stock is limited to a few brands, though they do have a number of products from one particular brand. 

No, I didn't name the brand just now. Yes, that is deliberate. What I originally thought would be a chocolate review has morphed into something else. 

When I originally picked out the bar, I noticed several certifications and assertions -- fair trade, organic, vegan, non-GMO, soy free, kosher, paleo friendly, and gluten free. (For the record, all chocolate is by nature gluten free unless you've added cookie inclusions or the like.) I didn't think much about these claims at first since they are fairly par for the course and a few of them are meaningless. For example, paying to certify your chocolate as organic is fine and dandy if you want to market it that way and charge a premium accordingly, but the overwhelming majority of chocolate (95%+) is organic simply by virtue of the fact that the majority of cacao is grown on small family farms where the farmers aren't paid enough to be able to afford chemical fertilizers or pesticides. 

Then today while I was sitting down to try the bar for a second time to confirm whether I was tasting cherry notes from the dark chocolate (which I was), I noticed that my "Canadian" chocolate bar was made in Switzerland. Naturally I had to Google the company and then I found all sorts of claims about their line of chocolate bars and how the vision for their company came to be. From spurious claims positioning their chocolate as a health food to the insistence that they identify the origins of their cacao on the front of every bar (I've searched high and low and can't find a country of origin on my bar or on the product profile on their website), it seems that this company is big on promises and perhaps not so big on delivery. 

And so this has turned into a cautionary tale. All that glitters isn't gold and all that is claimed about chocolate isn't true. One example will suffice: there's a tendency today to use coconut sugar as a "healthier" option than cane or beet sugar -- and this chocolate bar was no different -- but coconut sugar has the same number of calories as your regular, run-of-the-mill granulated sugar. Buyer beware.

The clothes don't make the man and the certifications don't make the chocolate. If you enjoy the flavour of it, then by all means, indulge! But don't assume a particular chocolate is better based on questionable marketing. 

As for this bar, beyond its questionable marketing, it was unremarkable and it wasn't a pleasure to eat, so I can't recommend it. 

Life is too short for mediocre chocolate.

 

A Patron Saint of Confectioners?

Fun fact: Tuesday (May 16th) is the feast day of Saint Honoratus of Amiens. Who's that, you ask? Why, he is the patron saint of confectioners and bakers!

If you grew up Catholic like I did, then you're familiar with the concept of patron saints. Among the famous are Saint Christopher (patron saint of travellers), Saint Anthony (lost articles), Saint Jude (hopeless causes), and Saint Francis of Assisi (environment and animals). And if you sang in the church choir like I did, then you've probably intoned the Litany of the Saints and have heard of the more obscure ones, like Saints Cosmas and Damien (pharmacists), Saint Bartholomew (bookbinders, butchers, and leatherworkers), Saint Kateri Tekakwitha (ecology), and Saint Jerome (archaeologists and librarians). 

Saint Honoratus, I'm afraid, slipped from my memory -- if he was ever there. I've gone back and looked at a few versions of the Litany of the Saints, and he doesn't appear to have made the cut. I (re)discovered he existed during my professional chocolatier program. It was probably in advance of one of the assignments involving cooked sugar, which I find to be terrifying. I vaguely remember wondering if there was a patron saint of chocolatiers to whom I could pray. My quick search on Google revealed there was one for confectioners and I decided that was close enough (perhaps even better given the assignment). 

Saint Honoratus of Amiens (Honoré, sometimes Honorius) died circa 600 CE. He became associated with bakers and confectioners as a result of a baking peel miraculously transforming into a mulberry tree after he was proclaimed a bishop (visit Catholic Online or read the NPR version of the story). Often depicted with loaves of bread and a peel, by the 15th century, he was associated with a guild of bakers in Paris. It is after him that the famous Gateau St. Honoré is named -- a dessert often said to be the ultimate test of a pastry students, with puff pastry, pâte á choux, pastry cream, and caramelized sugar. It was developed in the 19th century at a bakery located on Rue Saint-Honoré in Paris. 

And so, how better to celebrate Saint Honoratus than to make a Gateau St. Honoré‽ 

Just kidding. While I would LOVE to try making this dessert, I would have to do it for a party. It isn't something that will keep more than 24 hours, so it should be eaten shortly after it is made, in one sitting if possible. And as much as I'd like to make a decadent dessert and eat it myself (maybe offering a profiterole or two to Chris), I don't think my Fitbit would be happy with me. Alas, there is no badge for setting a record for fat intake in a day...

So instead I decided to make part of a Gateau St. Honoré -- the profiteroles -- in honour of his feast day. Choux pastry is notoriously finicky, so I prayed to Saint Honoratus before beginning. And then made and baked the pâte á choux. It was easier than expected! I filled a few with some leftover vanilla bean whipped cream that wasn't quite as stiff as it should have been, but was delicious nonetheless. I topped them with some chocolate ganache. 

The result? Delicious!

These are very moreish. I may try filling a few of the choux shells with ice cream on the weekend. Or with pastry cream. Or with chocolate whipped cream. The possibilities are endless!

As for the full Gateau St. Honoré, it will have to wait. But I'm ready for it whenever the opportunity presents itself! In the process of researching recipes I learned that there is a piping tip called St. Honoré, named after Saint Honoratus and used for the famed dessert. Having nothing like it in my piping tip collection, I ordered the tips from Amazon. 

And maybe, on Tuesday, we should all enjoy some good bread from a local bakery.    

A Different Kind of Truffle

As we begin month 5 of this chocolate resolution, it's time to revisit the truffle. Admittedly, I'm going off book with this post (that is, I'm not reading Ewald Notter's The Art of the Chocolatier this week), but I thought it only right to share this off-the-beaten-path chocolate adventure.

I was invited to a theme party this weekend -- Cinco de Mayo and Kentucky Derby combined -- and thought I should bring something chocolate to share. I searched for Mexican desserts and in one of those annoying list-style posts that give you 25+ photos pertaining to your search, each on its own page (click, click, click), I saw brigadeiros.

Now, let's be clear: I know that brigadeiros are a Brazilian dessert. But the idea stuck with me, so I went with it. Close enough geographically, says I (when in reality, it's not that close at all if you look at a map). I digress...

Brigadeiros are similar to truffles in that they are rolled confections, but there's no cream and they are made with cocoa powder instead of chocolate (i.e. with cocoa butter). The primary ingredient is sweetened condensed milk, which develops a caramel (dulce de leche) flavour when cooked. Based on my reading, I understand that the texture of a brigadeiro is more chewy than a ganache truffle (which should be smooth and creamy). 

Now, this is one of those recipes that always scares me a little. You put the ingredients into a pot and cook them on medium to medium high heat until the mixture achieves a fudge-like consistency. When they say you must stir constantly, they mean it -- the risk of ingredients burning is high. So, exhaust fan on bust, lest I set off the smoke detectors and evacuate the building, I began the process of cooking. 

It came together much quicker than expected. The recipe said 10-15 minutes, but by 6 I had reached what I thought was the right consistency. I removed the pot from the heat and immediately scraped the mixture onto a buttered plate to cool. Then I set the mixture, well wrapped, in the fridge for a day, because I read that it is best to roll the brigadeiros in sprinkles on the same day you will eat them so that the sprinkles maintain their crunch. 

Of course, I rolled two small samples. Quality assurance processes are important! To my palate, they needed something. Chris suggested more salt. I agreed and thought about doubling the amount of salt in the recipe if I ever made them again.  

Then the following day, I rolled these truffle-like confections. They mixture was incredibly easy to work with. In no time, 22 of them were lined up like soldiers awaiting their sprinkle coating. Thinking back to the need for more salt, I cracked pink Himalayan salt over them and gave them another quick roll to ensure the salt wouldn't fall off, and then rolled them in sprinkles. While the traditional brigadeiro is rolled in chocolate sprinkles, I also rolled some in multicoloured sprinkles that I had on hand to make them more appropriate for Cinco de Mayo. And then I dropped them in into paper cups to transport to the party.

The result?

As the description stated, they have a chewy texture. It's somewhere between a soft caramel and fudge, but not as sticky. Actually, they remind me of a molasses caramel I made during my professional chocolatier program that gave me a great deal of trouble. It tasted delicious, but it was so soft that the cut caramels slumped into irregular mounds in the 12 hours I left them before enrobing them in chocolate. I had to reform them all before I could complete my assignment! I'm writing this post before going to the party, so here's hoping the briagdeiros don't suffer the same fate!

The caramel notes in these "truffles" come through and the sprinkles give a nice texture contrast. And I think that the flavour has developed since I first tested them. 

Delicious, festive, and fun!

Arriba!