Chocolate Intentions

It's that time of year again when many people reflect on the past year and make resolutions for the next. Personally, I stopped making resolutions several years ago for a few reasons. First, too often we associate resolutions with deprivation -- some of the most common involve eating less or giving up particular "vices." Second, while today no doubt marks the end of one year and the start of the next, I've always felt that Spring, with trees and flowers coming alive and the return of birds and squirrels, as well as September, with the excitement of the new academic year, were just as important (perhaps more important) periods of renewal. Finally, let's be honest, without a plan, resolutions are destined to fail. 

And so for the last few years, instead of making resolutions, I make a list of things I want to do or accomplish in the next year. Instead of resolving to do less of something, I make a list of intentions that are about doing more. Sure, my list from time to time has included eating more vegetables or moving more. But one year I decided to eat more cheese and let me tell you that I had a great year selecting a different cheese each week to add to my lunch bag. Sure, people laughed when resolutions came up in conversation and I revealed that I was planning to eat more cheese, but I'm willing to bet I was far more successful in my endeavour than they were in giving up sugar! (Incidentally, if you haven't tried Coeur de Lion mini soft cheese, you're missing out.)

Since I enjoy baking and cooking, my list of intentions invariably includes a few recipes that I want to try. Often these are more time-intensive or complicated recipes, like Julia Child's boeuf bourguignon. But sometimes they are simple, like Cincinnati chili. (I recommend both.) My list also includes crafts I'd like to make. Last year, this meant M&M Christmas ornaments were on the list -- and I was particularly pleased with how they turned out!

Of course, as those of you reading this blog know, I also started 2023 wanting to spend more time on chocolate, to advance my skills and try new recipes and methods -- and, as a result, I think this year's chocolate assortment was my best work yet. That didn't happen by accident, but by plan. I supported my intention by setting aside time in my schedule. Tuesday evening became "chocolate night." I made this intention known to family and friends. I decided that I would use this blog as a way to hold myself accountable. And when necessary, I purchased the tools and ingredients to advance my practice (a chocolate stencil, citric acid, artisanal chocolate). Consequently, it's been a great year. I enjoyed my quiet evenings of study, I can see improvement in my work, and I feel a sense of accomplishment. Many in my circle have been very encouraging and supportive of this endeavour, and I appreciate that more than words or gifts of chocolate could say. 

And so what's next? 

There's no question that my intention of "more chocolate" will remain for 2024. In fact, I've already replenished my dark chocolate stash and purchased an ingredient I've been wanting to try for five years! While I still expect to observe "chocolate night" weekly, it may become a little less rigid to accommodate other intentions, like making "Basque burnt cheesecake" that I saw on Crime Scene Kitchen (though I suppose I could make a chocolate sauce to drizzle over it and maintain the chocolate connection!). I'd like to bake bread more often as well, since there really is no comparison between homemade bread and store bought. I'm thinking that Soup January may be a good opportunity. (Incidentally, Soup January started a few years ago as an intention to eat more vegetables after the excess of the holiday season, but has become a tradition that I look forward to every year.) 

I have also decided that 2024 is the year that I will learn to service my sewing machine. I've had it since I was about 14 years old and it's never been properly cleaned or oiled. I'm determined to acquire this skill and show my sewing machine the love it deserves, if only motivated by the fact that a basic service costs in excess of $100 now (!). In the spirit of setting myself up for success in this regard, I've located and saved a video tutorial on YouTube, brought my grandmother's vintage Singer oil applicator back from Newfoundland, and ordered a bottle of sewing machine oil which should arrive by Old Christmas Day. Wish me luck! 

As for this blog, I hope it will continue and that you'll indulge me when the topic strays from chocolate to other endeavours. 

I'd love to hear what your intentions are for 2024. Until then...

Best wishes for the New Year!

Christmas "Crack"

How many of you make Christmas "Crack" at this time of year? 

Most commonly it's made with a layer of saltine crackers covered in caramel (or toffee) and topped with chocolate. A number of variations exist, employing Ritz crackers, pretzels, or graham crackers as the base. Some people add sprinkles or chopped nuts to the chocolate layer, while others drizzle with white chocolate to decorate. Regardless, the end result delights the senses: sweet and salty, crunchy and creamy. It's very more-ish. 

My sister and I have made this a few times now, after finding a recipe on Pinterest. We've had mixed results. The first year, the caramel was more firm, but the second year it was very soft, sticky, and gooey. Both years, the treat had to be kept in the fridge to ensure the chocolate was set. 

As a chocolatier, I find the recipe to be infuriating, since it isn't written to promote success. It doesn't give the temperature to which the sugar should be cooked, and the method of applying the chocolate ensures it will not be in temper (and therefore will not properly solidify without refrigeration). And if refrigeration is necessary to keep the chocolate firm, then the caramel layer will get stickier and stickier, as the sugar (which is hygroscopic) attracts and absorbs moisture from the fridge. 

Now, maybe that's ok. Maybe people want more of a soft caramel than a toffee atop the crackers. Maybe people like the stretchy, sticky "caramel" layer? (My mother said she prefers it this way.) Maybe chocolate melting on your fingers as you break it apart is ok? (It's certainly tasty.) But if that's not what you're looking for, then read on!

There are so many recipes floating around the internet that it can be difficult to know which ones are good and which ones won't turn out. When it comes to Christmas "Crack," if it doesn't require you to have a candy thermometre (or tell you how test which cooked sugar stage you've reached), then you have to accept that the result will be hit or miss. This is basic science. The temperature to which sugar is cooked will determine its crystal structure -- the higher the temperature, the more firm it becomes. Cook it to soft ball and you've got a soft caramel or fudge texture, firm ball and you've got something more like a firm caramel or nougat. To achieve a snappy toffee or brittle texture, the sugar has to be cooked to hard crack -- and that can't be reached by boiling the sugar for only 30 seconds as our recipe indicated, nay, warned us not to surpass. (I admit, I ignored this warning and let it boil a few minutes longer than recommended, though I resisted the urge to break out a thermometre.) All to say, before you make your crack, it's worth considering whether you'd prefer a chewy caramel or crunchy toffee texture, and look for a recipe that supports that goal. 

Regarding the chocolate, some recipes tell you to sprinkle the chocolate over the top of the hot pan when it comes out of oven, while others tell you to melt it in the microwave and then spread it over the top. In either scenario, if you're using real chocolate, it will come out of temper (even if you melted it the right way to maintain temper), because the temperature is just too high. It will require refrigeration to solidify and it will likely experience bloom. You could let the crackers and cooked sugar cool for a few minutes before adding the chocolate (which is what we did), and as long as the chocolate was melted in a way that maintained its temper, then it will solidify at room temperature within about 5 minutes. (The way to do this is to melt the chocolate in the microwave in short bursts at 50% power (20-30 seconds each, stirring each time), stopping while there are still pieces of chocolate remaining, and letting the residual heat melt out those remaining pieces while stirring.) You'll have chocolate that doesn't melt when touched, can be kept at room temperature, and has a sheen to it (if that's your goal). Thus, before making your crack, it's worth considering whether you'd rather store it at room temperature or if you have room in your fridge to keep it, and proceed accordingly. 

It's worth pointing out that putting tempered chocolate atop toffee isn't without its own challenges. Sometimes the chocolate will separate from the toffee layer (I've experienced this after making almond roca). As a result, some chocolatiers choose to top toffee with melted chocolate (not tempered) because it will adhere better, but then sprinkle nuts over the top to hide the inevitable bloom that appears. There's no right or wrong here -- it's a choice to be made. And no one will fault you for more sprinkles or nuts!

All this said, the most important decision, in my opinion, is whether to make it or not, because, despite this blog post, if you choose to make Christmas "Crack" you really can't go wrong. Whether the toffee is chewy or brittle, whether the chocolate is tempered or not, the end result is delicious -- nay, addictive.

Tell me, have you tried making Christmas "Crack"? How did it turn out? 

Happy holidays everyone!

2023 Christmas Assortment

Now that the majority of the boxes have been delivered, I can blog more specifically about this year's Christmas assortment!

For 2023, I made 30 four-flavour boxes, up from last year's 24. This was deliberate on my part, since I had planned to offer a few up for sale on Facebook for those who don't normally get to try my chocolates. Thanks to slightly larger batch sizes for two of the recipes, I also unexpectedly had enough pieces to pack 12 two-flavour boxes, half of which I also intended to sell. Unfortunately, my plan was foiled last week when my travel itinerary abruptly changed due to weather and I left for home two days early. I handed out the extra four-flavour boxes to individuals in the hall before leaving campus and tossed the six remaining two-flavour boxes into my carry-on to give out at our annual Crappy Craft Night. 

The four-flavour box included a salted caramel enrobed in dark chocolate, an orange cardamom truffle hand-rolled in dark chocolate, an apricot brandy praline with a dark chocolate shell, and a milk chocolate peanut butter meltaway. The salted caramel featured Sonoran sea salt, given to me by a friend who lives in Arizona. The orange cardamom truffle was prepared using whole cardamom pods, given to me by another friend earlier in the year. The peanut butter meltaway contained no special ingredients, but was a departure from the usual mint meltaway (and I think it would make a delicious filling in the future). But the really special creation this year was the apricot brandy praline.

A nod to my grandmother, who was known to keep a bottle of apricot brandy in the crisper drawer of the refrigerator, this praline has been in the works since January. It was then that I decided I would try a layered bonbon, initially thinking I would pair an apricot brandy ganache with a layer of marzipan, since I love the combination of apricots and almonds. In July, while in Newfoundland, I purchased a bottle of apricot brandy, since it doesn't appear to be available in any Nova Scotian liquor stores (in comparison, NLC had several different brands to choose from -- obviously Newfoundlanders like their apricot brandy). By the fall, my thinking had evolved and instead of pairing the ganache with marzipan, I decided to pair it with apricot jam to brighten and emphasize the apricot flavour. Featuring a dark chocolate shell decorated with copper edible luster dust, the final product had a dollop of apricot jam encased in apricot brandy ganache. And while I only got to try one of them before packaging, I think the jam was the right decision to create a burst of flavour. I was thrilled with the results -- a true homage to Honora. 

After filling 30 shells with apricot brandy ganache, I found myself with enough ganache to make another 20 truffles, and so I piped and rolled and hand-enrobed those as well. They were paired with the remaining peanut butter meltaways to create smaller treat boxes. While the truffles hit a little different than the pralines, due to the absence of the apricot jam, they still pack a flavour punch. 

I'm very pleased with how this year's assortment turned out. I think it's some of my best work, not only in terms of the flavours, but also in terms of the execution. This is the first year that I've nailed the temper of my chocolate for every piece that I produced. And I finally feel like I'm getting the hang of hand-rolling truffles. 

Hopefully those lucky enough to receive these boxes enjoyed them. Chocolate made in truly small batch quantities is qualitatively different from that which is mass-produced. And every piece is a labour of love. 

The best things really do come in small packages. 

Transfer Sheets

It wouldn't be Christmas without chocolate bark, right? 

Every year, I make at least one batch of bark. I like to try different inclusions and toppings (though I'm not sure anything will ever top the milk chocolate potato chip bark from a few years ago). As I thought about the bark for this year, I was focussed on using up some leftover gingerbread. I've always tried to be creative to avoid food waste, but in these days of inflation and shrinkflation, "waste not, want not" hits a little different. Have you seen the price of butter and sugar lately? I digress...

And so I blitzed up 75 grams of gingerbread (which was baked to more of a gingersnap texture) and added it to 400 grams of tempered dark chocolate. The result? Eight bags of gingersnap bark for giving this season. 

But I did make one deviation from my normal method. You see, with all of this reading I've been doing, I was reminded of transfer sheets -- plastic sheets decorated with cocoa butter. Using a transfer sheet was one of many decorating options in my professional chocolatier program years ago and so when I bought my school supplies, I ordered three from Golda's Kitchen in Ontario (which sadly no longer exists). I used one sheet (gold swirls) when capping one of the bonbons in my assignments. I used another (hearts) pre-pandemic on some Valentine's chocolate bark topped with cinnamon hearts. Long forgotten in storage, there was one remaining sheet. I pulled it out and spread the tempered chocolate on it. 

The result?

My gingersnap bark may look like any standard chocolate bark from the top, but the bottom is covered in tiny snowflakes. Sort of the "business in the front, party in the back" of the chocolate world.

One day, I hope to have custom transfer sheets with my name on them like Kate Weiser for capping my confections. 

Until then, what's your favourite flavour of bark this time of year? 

Shelling Pralines

In the past few years, I've moved away from using molds when preparing chocolates for Christmas unless the piece is solid. This is because the process of "shelling," depending on which method you use, can be slow or messy. 

When I first started making chocolates as a kid, I used the method I had learned from my Girl Guide leader (which is also the method advanced in many Wilton tutorials, which might be where she learned it). Using a good quality paintbrush, you paint the mold with a layer of chocolate. Once it sets, you paint a second coat, paying particular attention to the areas where you can see light through the chocolate. Then you proceed with filling and capping. This is easy enough and can result in a very thin shell, but it is also very time consuming and depending on how intricate the mold is and how many you're doing, it can be a race against the clock to get the wells painted before your tempered chocolate crystallizes in the bowl. 

The method we were taught in the professional chocolatier program was to ladle chocolate into the wells of the mold, tap it a few times to release any air bubbles, and then invert it (either over parchment or a large bowl) and tap vigorously before scraping the excess off and leaving the shells to set. Obviously, this is a much quicker method, which is great for production, but it can be tricky to figure out how to hold and manipulate the mold the first few times you do it and it's messy.

It wasn't until last week that I tried the third method. It was one that I remember seeing during my chocolatier training. In a video profiling a home-based chocolatier in British Columbia, we watched him pipe the chocolate into his molds. He said it was a cleaner way of working -- and it certainly seemed that way. In essence, he had turned himself into the human equivalent of a depositor (which is used in larger scale production of chocolate). 

The night before I planned to shell my molds, I decorated them with luster dust. Because the luster dust is mixed with alcohol to create an edible "paint," it requires a few hours to fully dry before the mold can be filled. 

The next day, armed with 400g of tempered dark chocolate, I filled a piping bag and deposited chocolate into each well of my chosen mold. Easy enough and very clean. I gave it a few taps on the counter to release any air bubbles, flipped it over, and tapped with the handle of my drywall knife as the excess chocolate drained down onto my counter (which had been covered with a piece of waxed paper). Then a quick scrape across the mold to remove the excess chocolate and the shells were ready to set! Easy peasy, right? 

While this worked perfectly -- and I do mean perfectly -- my next decision was the wrong one. Since I'm aiming for about 30 boxes of chocolates this year, I had a second mold prepared with the intention of shelling another half mold (each mold has 21 wells). I used my drywall knife to collect the chocolate from the waxed paper, returned it to the piping bag, and tried to shell another 12 wells. Now, the entire time I was doing this, a little voice in my head was saying, "This is a bad idea." But I did it anyway. And the result? I didn't shell my mold. I ended up with solid chocolate pieces. The chocolate had thickened to the point that it wouldn't drain from the wells, no matter how much I tapped. I ended up having to re-temper chocolate to make the additional pieces I needed, but they have no decoration because I didn't have time to paint them and let it set. 

Now, despite this hiccup, I definitely would use the piping bag method again. It was cleaner and it was relatively quick. In the future, I would just temper more chocolate or temper it in batches instead of trying to be efficient in the way I described. (Side note: If I had a large melter or even a large bowl of tempered chocolate that the excess was falling into, this wouldn't have been a problem; however, I work in very small quantities.)

As for the results, I'm very happy with how these turned out. There are fewer imperfections in the shell (no air bubbles to be seen) and look at that shine! It's like a mirror!

I definitely want to mold more pieces in the future as a result!