Three-Part Molds

A recent innovation in chocolate molds has been the introduction of three-part molds. Targeting home candy makers, they are meant to make the process of molding easier, but I've always wondered if they work. Naturally, when I found one on clearance at Michaels for $3, I had to buy one.

Three-part molds are comprised of: (1) the mold itself, which has a fill line; (2) a flexible insert that is about 1/8" smaller than the mold; and (3) a rigid cap that presses the flexible insert into the chocolate, causing the chocolate to rise up the sides of the mold. The result is a shell with even thickness (more or less). One of the key benefits is the flat edge that it creates; the thicker "wall" of chocolate enables the two pieces to then be assembled with better alignment. 

This all sounds good in theory, but what's it like in practice? I picked a mold out of my collection to test. 

Well, I can tell you that the first challenge to present itself was the visibility of the fill line when looking down at the mold. It couldn't be seen. At all. The line was only truly visible, at least to my bespectacled eyes, when the mold was held up to a light on an angle. That doesn't really facilitate filling the mold with melted chocolate. As a result, it's easy to add too little chocolate -- resulting in gaps -- or too much chocolate -- causing it to overflow (and requiring subsequent trimming). It might help to mark the line on the outside of the mold with a piece of tape or something similar.

After the chocolate sets, the flexible inserts must be removed before unmolding the shells. Unlike harder plastics that release easily from set chocolate, the flexible inserts seemed to hold on a little more than they should. And, not unlike many silicone molds, they created a dull surface to the chocolate. While this isn't a major problem, because the inside isn't seen, it certainly added to the time required and resulted in additional clean up. 

Despite these issues, the mold did produce a shell with even thickness and a good "foot" for assembly.

Unfortunately, it turned out that the first mold I chose to test had a design flaw. The neck joining the bear's head to its body was particularly thin. This created a weak spot between the large head and body. Unable to support the weight, it cracked during the unmolding process. Upon examining it, I feel fairly confident that cracking would be the rule rather than the exception with this mold. 

Undeterred, I still filled the bear with candy and assembled the pieces to create the 3D figure. It's very cute! In the future, I may use it for a filled or solid confection. I may also experiment with replacing the third piece of the mold after removing the flexible inserts and before tapping out to see if that helps to support the chocolate and reduce breakage. And, in any event, it's possible to hide the flaw by adding a ribbon around the bear's neck or adding some decoration with royal icing or tempered chocolate. 

Fortunately, this sort of weak spot doesn't appear in most of the other 3-part molds that I purchased. The sphere, diamond, and cupcake are definitely safe -- confirmed with milk chocolate. The champagne bottle, which I haven't yet tested, may present some problems only because the neck of the bottle is so narrow. We'll mark that TBD when an appropriate occasion crops up to test it. 

Until then, I invite you to appreciate how cute this chocolate bear's tail is! 

 

Chocolate Easter Squirrel

Several years ago, perhaps during the pandemic, I treated myself to a Ferrero Rocher Squirrel for Easter. It caught my eye because it was different (i.e. not a bunny or an egg), but also because I was feeling a bit homesick at the time and was attracted to it because my father's nickname for me is Squirrel. I didn't read the label or pay much attention to the ingredients. I just had the gold-wrapped hazelnut chocolates in my mind. When I cracked it open on Easter Sunday, I discovered it was a hollow 3D chocolate figure. While I would have preferred a little more chocolate (given the cost), it had me contemplating what I would mold for Easter if I ever opened my own chocolate shop -- could chocolate Easter bears be a thing?

Fast forward to the present. As you know, last week I tried my hand at molding hollow 3D chocolate eggs for the first time. As I reflected on the results, I couldn't help but think that, unless there was a surprise hidden inside, they were a bit boring. I thought about the many chocolatiers who have taken to painting their molds in a Jackson Pollock-style splatter, turning their eggs into works of art. I did something similar a few years ago. Others have added candy, sprinkles, caramels, or other confections inside the egg. Last year, for example, I had a Peace by Chocolate hollow dark chocolate egg that held little white chocolate chicks and came with violet seeds. 

The Ferrero Rocher Squirrel is unique because it uses chocolate with inclusions to shell the mold instead of using nuts as a filling. The only other product I can think of using a similar technique is the soon-to-be-extinct Cherry Blossom. I wondered how the inclusions might impact the temper and fluidity of the chocolate, and by extension the ability to properly coat the mold, particularly when producing a hollow 3D piece by hand rather than in a factory with specialized equipment. I decided to try it out.

I combined some leftover dark chocolate with milk chocolate and tempered it. Then I added some chopped peanuts. After adding the mixture to half of the mold and clipping the second piece in place, I slowly rotated the mold in various directions to coat it. Then I popped it in the fridge, followed by the freezer, before unmolding. Now, this is where things went wrong. I was impatient. Instead of popping the mold back in the freezer for a few more minutes, I tried to release the mold even though I could see one section where the chocolate hadn't yet contracted away from the plastic. I cracked the egg. 

As you can imagine, I was disappointed, but at least I had proof of concept that this type of shelling was possible by hand. The following day, I melted down the cracked egg, tempered the chocolate, and tried again. This time the egg popped out of the mold easily and I could see the flecks of peanut throughout the semi-dark chocolate surface. 

I appreciate the beauty of the unadorned, well-tempered shell. And I think anyone eating this will enjoy the surprise of peanuts throughout. Because it was done by hand, the chocolate is thicker than that of the mass-produced chocolate squirrel, but no one's ever complained about more chocolate, am I right? Most importantly, though, it's a new approach to shelling that may have other applications in the future. 

Hollow 3D Figures

While I didn't pursue a professional chocolatier program until 2018, my first introduction to chocolate making came while I was around ten or eleven years old and part of a Girl Guide troop. One Wednesday night, we gathered in the basement of the Salvation Army temple and our troop's leader demonstrated how to make various solid and filled bonbons. Of course, she was using Wilton candy melts (compound chocolate) instead of "real" chocolate, so there was no tempering involved, but we learned processes for shelling, filling, and capping. I remember the chocolate being kept warm with an electric skillet, the molds being painstakingly painted with a Testors paint brush (the kind you use on model cars), and the can of condensed milk that had been transformed into caramel by boiling it. I was hooked. And my dear parents indulged my interest, taking me to the religious book and bible shop in the mall, which for some reason was the place to buy candy melts and molds. 

I've come a long way since then. But every now and then I think back to one of the techniques she talked about that night -- creating hollow 3D figures. She described two-part molds that snapped together. You would pour some chocolate in one piece, snap them together, and then rotate to coat the mold until the chocolate solidified. It sounded easy enough, and at some point I used my allowance to buy a 3D Christmas tree and a 3D Santa mold, but I never tried it.

While hollow 3D figures wasn't part of my professional chocolatier program, as I engaged in research for various assignments, I stumbled upon videos demonstrating how 3D molds are used in factories. Instead of clipping or snapping together, the molds are now commonly held together with magnets. And instead of a person rotating them by hand, they are placed on a machine that slowly rotates in multiple directions. Smaller, artisanal shops may have 3D molds that aren't fully enclosed when clipped together. They fill them with chocolate, let them sit for a few minutes, and then pour out the excess chocolate to leave a hollow figure. 

The production, of course, is a little different if you want to have a surprise in the centre of the hollow figure, like M&Ms or Smarties. Anyone who's made hot chocolate bombs knows this process: mold the two pieces separately, add your fillings to one side, and then attach the other half either by melting it a little on a hot pan or by "gluing" it into place with more chocolate. I've made cocoa bombs before, including some Grinch-inspired ones with a friend -- but I've never made a one-piece, hollow chocolate figure. Until now. 

This week, on chocolate night, I decided to try it. I have a few egg molds that can be combined for this purpose. I grabbed some white chocolate left over from Christmas, prepared it using the direct tempering method, and poured it into one half of the mold. With binder clips, I secured the other half and began rotating. Once I was confident the chocolate was well distributed, I let it sit for a minute and then flipped it over and let it sit for another minute. Then I tossed it in the fridge to set. Fifteen minutes later, I pulled it out and was saddened to find I couldn't unmold it. I thought perhaps I'd messed up the temper. I made the mistake of using too much force and I cracked the egg in half. Still unable to get the chocolate out, I put it in the freezer for 5 minutes and the two halves then popped out cleanly. The next day, it was clear that the chocolate had been in perfect temper, but I had been too impatient. So I tried again.

My second attempt was with leftover dark chocolate. I repeated the process, but this time when I took it out of the fridge, instead of trying to unmold it, I popped it into the freezer immediately for a quick cold "shock." And the hollow egg unmolded perfectly! Huzzah!

Pleased as punch, I set it aside on a crumpled paper towel so that it wouldn't roll around. And then I turned my attention to "fixing" the white chocolate one. I could have melted down the chocolate and molded the egg again, but instead I decided to put a surprise inside. I took the first half of the egg and smoothed the edge by melting it on a hot frying pan. Then I filled it with candy before smoothing the second half and applying that on top while the chocolate was still melted. I patched the bottom with a little melted chocolate. Voila! Done. 

I'm very excited with how these turned out and for the possibilities going forward. The only challenge I have now is that the foil I usually wrap chocolates in isn't big enough for this jumbo Easter egg. Consequently, I'm going to need a creative packaging solution. But there's plenty of time to sort that out by Easter.