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. 

You Can't Juice An Apricot

Still with apricots on my mind from two weeks ago, I decided that this week as a break from reading I would experiment with my pâtes de fruits recipe. I did some research on apricot juice, which it turns out is referred to as apricot nectar, to see whether I could purchase it locally. No dice. If I wanted apricot nectar, I was going to have to make it myself. And so off I went to the grocery store to purchase fresh apricots. 

I had no idea how many apricots would translate into 3/4 cups of nectar. I also had no idea how many apricots were in a pound and the store didn't have a scale. After sizing them up, I concluded I should buy eight and hope for the best. Five dollars later, I was on my way back home.

Uncertain how best to proceed, I consulted Google. There were many recipes available for apricot nectar, but they all involved added sugar. Considering how much sugar is in a pâtes de fruits recipe, I thought that might lead to a cloyingly sweet confection. Instead, I decided to go off book and simply juice the apricots. People seem to juice everything these days, so I had no reason to think juicing apricots would be problematic. Indeed, armed with a high end juicer, I assumed this would be a breeze.

It was not. 

I cut my apricots in half, removed the stones, dropped the fruit down the chute, and switched on the motor. And then watched in confusion as the juicer quickly chewed through the apricots providing me with a bowl of pulp and only about a tablespoon of juice. Was the juicer assembled correctly? Or can you really not juice an apricot? Undeterred, I put the pulp back through the juicer for round two. The auger struggled, but eventually did fill a Mason jar with a thick apricot puree. I was in business (and made a mental note that next time, I'll just use my food processor). 

And so into the pot I measured the apricot puree, lemon juice, and sugar. Following the recipe I used during my chocolatier program, I cooked the mixture on medium heat until it hit 113 degrees, then added the remaining sugar. Now, my recipe stated to cook the "juice" mixture to 238, but Notter's table indicated that apricot pâtes de fruits should cook to 225, so that's what I did. Once I hit temperature, I added the pectin and cooked it for 2 more minutes. I poured some of the mixture into a measuring cup so that I could fill the cavities of a silicone jewel mold, and poured what remained into a parchment lined loaf pan. I sprinkled the tops with sugar and let the pâtes de fruits sit for two hours to cool and set. 

Now, let me just say that boiling sugar is always terrifying to me. This wasn't quite so bad as making peanut brittle, where you exceed 300 degrees, but it's still liquid hot magma. It can burn. It can boil over. And living in an apartment, I'm always worried I'm going to set off the alarms and be the reason the building has been evacuated! Mercifully, none of that happened. 

I made some notes regarding the changes I made to the recipe and read a few more pages of Notter's The Art of the Chocolatier. When two hours had passed (incredibly quickly, I might add), I unmolded the jewels and cut the slab into 1" pieces. I then mixed a touch of citric acid into a bowl of sugar, and dusted all of the pieces. When I tried one of the end pieces, I was thrilled with the results. The apricot flavour was bright and the citric acid brought some complexity to the flavour. Definitely an improvement over my earlier attempts. 

Based on the reactions I received from those who had a chance to taste these, the apricot flavour was very present and the little bit of sour pucker from the citric acid definitely made a difference in the experience of the confection. 

And me? I give it an A -- for apricot!

Pear in a Bottle?

During last Monday's dedicated reading time, I finally cracked open Notter's The Art of the Chocolatier. Not surprisingly, it started with a history of chocolate, the cultivation of cacao, and the transformation of chocolate as it moved from one culture to another across the globe. But I wasn't expecting the descriptions of "other ingredients" employed by chocolatiers to be so interesting. In particular, the section on alcohol in chocolate, and specifically brandy, was eye opening.

I've experimented with alcohol in chocolate on more than a few occasions. While training, I made a port wine truffle as one of my assignments. I've also made truffles with local beers and ciders - pictured here is a dark chocolate truffle flavoured with Island Folk Cider House blueberry cider and rolled in pulverized freeze dried blueberries. Most recently, I made cointreau truffles following the Notter recipe. As I've tested these recipes, I've observed the interesting effects that alcohol has on the texture of the ganache and enjoyed the flavour possibilities (though it's clear from my circle of chocolate testers that alcohol in chocolate is divisive).

Brandy, however, is a bit of a foreign concept to me.

Apparently my grandmother kept a bottle of apricot brandy in her fridge. Not that I ever saw it, of course, but my aunt Rosella told me about it back in the late 1990s. You see, my grandmother also kept a bottle of apricot brandy in Rosella's fridge for when she was visiting the east coast. Years after nan's passing, while I was "in town" pursuing my undergraduate degree in music, Rosella still had her apricot brandy in the crisper drawer of her fridge. I don't know if Rosella ever drank any of it, but it was clear that the bottle had meaning for her.  

Apricot brandy doesn't make it into Notter's book; he instead focuses on Kirschwasser (cherry) and Williams pear. The description of Williams pear brandy is fascinating:

"Many bottles of Williams pear brandy are sold with a pear inside. To achieve this, growers hang empty bottles on their trees and insert the young fruit buds, which are trained to grow inside the bottles until the fruit becomes fully matured and ripened. The bottle and pear are removed from the tree and carefully cleaned. The brandy is then added and the bottle sealed." (Notter, The Art of the Chocolatier, page 24)

Now, I've heard of a letter in a bottle. I've seen a model ship in a bottle. I've even danced to the song "Genie in a Bottle" during my clubbing days. But a pear in a bottle? It feels like a "when I see an elephant fly" moment. Finding one also sounds like exactly the sort of quest that my nerdy self enjoys, so it's going on the bucket list!

First, though, I think I should find a bottle of apricot brandy to toast my grandmother. And I'm adding "develop an apricot brandy bonbon" to my list of chocolate inspiration. That's the point of this Monday-night chocolate exploration, of course - to identify new techniques and flavour combinations that I can work on to advance my craft. 

Prost!