Coconut Chocolate Bars

When I was a kid, my favourite piece in the Moirs Pot of Gold chocolate collection was the toasted coconut cup. While I clearly liked the flavour, equally enjoyable was the sound of the cup peeling away from the chocolate. As I recall, I wasn't the only one who liked it (indeed, my sister and I may have fought over it), so it was particularly special if you were the first one to the box. 

While completing my chocolatier program, I stumbled upon Hercules Candy. They were still producing chocolate in their basement at the time and I learned a lot about small batch processes by watching their videos, including how to make cherry cordials. They also made nut cups and I was impressed with the wooden tray they had manufactured to hold the cups while being filled. That summer, my father made one for me. 

As I began creating assorted chocolate collections for holidays, I made use of the tray. More often than not, I used it to hold cups while I filled them with a meltaway mixture. Sometimes I made solid pieces with fruit and nuts. But to my knowledge, I've never used them to make coconut cups or clusters. It occurred to me recently that a coconut bar would be just as delightful as the cup -- and perhaps more so because a bar would mean more chocolate! As I prepared Easter eggs to send home to my family, I decided to test a silicone mold I'd purchased online to make small coconut bars that I could add to my flat rate box. (Might as well stuff it with as much chocolate as possible!)

I tempered 200g of milk chocolate and added 20 grams of coconut. Once they were well combined, I began filling the mold. After tapping the mold to release the air bubbles, I popped the tray in the fridge to set. Fifteen minutes later, I had seven delightful little bars! After they fully crystallized, I wrapped them in foil and added a sticker to the back. 

These are delicious -- the perfect little ~25g treat! I also love the patterns picked up by the foil wrapping.   

AI Recipes

Artificial Intelligence (AI) is everywhere. It has slipped into our DMs on Facebook Messenger, appeared as an uninvited guest in our phones' list of apps, and infiltrated the social media platforms that once enabled us to connect with people we know and care about. AI is helping us to drive more safely, with enhanced crash detection and lane-keeping assistance. And it's annoying us on every website we visit, popping up as the helpful AI chat bot that no one requested. In all realms and sectors, it's omnipresent.

In education, everyone is grappling with this disruptive technology. It is changing everything we thought we knew about how to effectively teach students, how people learn, what skills are and will be valued in the workplace, and how to assess competency. There are some who want to ban it. Others are attempting to proactively engage with it. It's a hot topic for debate at many tables. Recently, in an effort to learn more about this pervasive technology and keep up with the pace of innovation, my colleagues and I have begun exploring the power of various tools, like ChatGPT and Copilot, to determine when and how they might be used in an ethical fashion to work smarter, not harder. 

We've had mixed results. Partly, the quality of the results depends on the quality of the prompt, so there's some learning to be done by users in that regard. AI appears to be incredibly effective at revising draft text or summarizing an extensive body of data. It also has some epic failures -- even when the prompt is highly specific. Now, admittedly, in my free time, a lot of my experiments have been revolved around making cute pictures of cartoon bears drinking coffee using Copilot. But as it executes a seemingly simple task (compared to mastering scientific literature, for example), I've been entertained to see the results and the limitations. For example, it produced a great image but misspelled the word "chocolate" as "choccolat." I asked it to fix the spelling while keeping everything else exactly the same -- and after five attempts, it still got it wrong (or fixed the spelling but changed the image). I had an abstract that was 2 words over the limit and asked it to shorten it. It told me it had done so, but then output the exact text I'd given it with no changes. Not so intelligent, now, eh?

During one of our coworking sessions recently, we started talking about how much we missed the energy bites that once appeared at every meeting. In these days of fiscal prudence, the stockpile we once had in the freezer has long since disappeared with no replenishment in sight. We wished we could get the recipe from food services, but figured there was no way they'd give it to us. I mentioned that I've looked at many recipes online, but haven't found one that is quite right. They all have been missing one or more of the ingredients we know are in them -- chia seeds, oats, chocolate chips, peanut butter, coconut. My brilliant coworker mused, "I wonder if Copilot could write us a recipe if we told it the ingredients." We temporarily put that in the metaphorical parking lot, finished the task at hand, and then rewarded ourselves with a quick Copilot prompt. In no time it produced a recipe.

Scanning the ingredients and the method, it looked like it would work. In fact, there was only one change that I would make: instead of mixing the dry ingredients first and adding the wet to them, I would mix the wet ingredients first and add the dry to them (only because peanut butter and honey can be a challenge to combine). We considered trying the recipe sometime in the future. For me, sometime was about 45 minutes later.

What can I say? I was curious. It was also a Wednesday -- and Wednesday nights are devoted to trying new things, especially in the culinary realm. To round things out, I had all of the ingredients on hand. It was meant to be.

I followed the recipe, making only one modification in procedure (mentioned above), and was impressed by what I saw. The mixture had a good consistency and the resulting bites looked a lot like the ones we had enjoyed at work in the past. The recipe was a success in the sense that it worked. But how would they taste? 

I'm happy to report that when we tried them the next day, they were delicious and a very close dupe. In my opinion, the amount of chia seeds could be reduced. My colleague observed that you can't normally taste honey when you eat the version made by food services. Upon reflection, given the cost of real honey (and maple syrup), we concluded that they probably use a cheaper sweetener, like corn syrup. We both thought that mini chocolate chips would be better. Regardless, they are "a keeper," as Trooper Ron would say. 

While this experiment worked, I'm not sure that I would necessarily recommend AI recipes to others. Presumably, Copilot and ChatGPT have trained largely on free online content (as well as books). The quality of recipes online, though, is variable (to say the least). Sure, some are delicious. But far more yield disappointing results -- in some cases, they are just okay, while others are total disasters that don't work. You're definitely taking your chances. 

But if you're trying to find an elusive recipe, it might be worth the gamble.  

Lamingtons

I'm not sure why, but the idea of making lamingtons has been in the back of my mind for a few years. I can't really explain it. I believe I saw a YouTube video of someone making them during the days of isolation in 2020. And then, of course, once you watch one lamington video, the algorithm rips the rug out from under you and you plummet down the rabbit hole. While I didn't recall eating them before, they reminded me of other desserts involving coconut that I'd seen as a child. And they certainly seemed like the sort of dessert Newfoundlanders would appreciate -- a layer of jam inside, the outside coated in coconut. In the words of Ina Garten, how bad can that be? 

When I started looking into recipes, I stumbled upon one by Barry Parsons who shares Newfoundland recipes on his Rock Recipes site. According to him, these creations were popular in Newfoundland during the 1960s and called chocolate coconut cake squares. And they weren't limited to one flavour -- raspberry and strawberry variations were common. Indeed, its the pink cake coated in coconut that I member seeing when I was young. Parsons also provides a lemon variation that sounds delicious! Decision made! Lamingtons would be this year's "cake" for a friend's upcoming birthday brunch. 

I chose to make the Cupcake Jemma recipe because I believe that's where I first saw them being made, but opted to add the jam layer that I'd seen in other variations. I started this culinary adventure on a Wednesday night, when I made the cake. First I mixed the sugar, eggs, and vanilla. Then I folded in the flour and baking powder. Finally, I add the melted butter. I poured the thick batter into an 8x8 pan lined with parchment paper and popped it into the oven for 25 minutes. Once a toothpick came out clean, I transferred the cake to a cooling rack before wrapping it well and setting it in the fridge overnight. 

The adventure continued on Thursday evening. I torted the cake using a Wilton cake leveler and filled it with seedless raspberry jam, taking care not to add so much that the layers would slide around. Then I wrapped it well and popped it back in the fridge to chill.

On Friday, I made the chocolate icing. What's that you say? More butter? Did Julia Child write this recipe? Once the icing was glossy and fluid, I cut my cake into 9 pieces and trimmed off the caramelization. I dipped each one into the icing, followed by the coconut, and placed it on a cake rack while I coated the remaining pieces. I kept three pieces coconut-free for my boyfriend (and other coconut naysayers). Then I returned them one more time to the fridge to fully set. 

Initially, I admit, I was a little concerned about serving lamingtons as birthday cake. I was primarily worried that they would be too small and look more like the squares you see at a church social. But once dipped in chocolate and coated in coconut, they looked much more substantial. The result? A delicious buttery cake with a slightly tart jam layer in the centre, surrounded by super sweet icing balanced by a coating of unsweetened coconut. The cake was more dense than I'd anticipated (I'd been expecting more of a sponge cake), but that may be a result of the particular recipe I chose. 

As for the leftover chocolate icing, it made the perfect base for a decadent hot cocoa!

See you next week!

Rocher

Think back to your childhood. When a box of Pot of Gold chocolates was opened at Christmas, what piece did you go for first? A caramel perhaps? One of the flavoured creams? Maybe the large solid piece in the centre? All good options, to be certain, but my go to was the coconut cluster in the little paper cup. I loved it. The sound of the paper being peeled away from the chocolate. The crunchy texture of the coconut combined with the creamy milk chocolate. Perfection.

Nut clusters are the unsung heroes of chocolate assortments. While truffles and caramels and creams are more technical to produce and much beloved for their smooth centres, it's the nut cluster that that dares to be different and provide the contrast in a collection. Most years, I've included one in my own Christmas boxes for this very reason. A cashew cluster, a peanut and raisin cluster, a craisin and pistachio cluster, a coconut cluster -- they've all been delicious. And, conveniently, they are incredibly easy and fast to produce. 

As it turns out, the fancy term for a nut cluster is rocher. I learned this tonight while reading Greweling's Chocolates and Confections. Certainly, I've heard and seen the word before (we're all familiar with the famous Ferrero Rocher), but I never gave it much thought or looked for a definition before. Rocher is the French word for boulder or rock. And, when you think about it, a mound of nuts held together by chocolate does give the appearance of a boulder or rock.

As I continued my reading, one of the rocher flavour combinations suggested was macadamia nuts and crystallized ginger. Frankly, that sounds divine to me. As a dried apricot lover, I can't help but wonder if they would be good paired with almond slivers. So many options, so little time!

What fruit and nut flavours would you combine? 

Chocolate Indulgence

This week, a friend brought a bag of low sugar coconut cups to work. She'd bought them at a big box store and was disappointed with them. Naturally, the solution was to put them in the break room where they rapidly disappeared. 

Curious, I grabbed one for analysis. At 80 calories per piece with only 3g of sugar and made of organic dark chocolate, they certainly have their appeal -- for the "health benefits" of chocolate and their keto- and low-carb-diet-friendly composition. I expected to find alternative or artificial sweeteners on the ingredient list, but didn't. 

I bit into one. The chocolate appeared to be in good temper. At 85%, it came across as very bitter and the centre didn't have a particularly strong coconut flavour. My immediate thought was that it entirely lacked balance. There wasn't enough sweetness to balance the brute chocolate, nor was there any salt. Beyond that, the centre had a strange texture. I returned to the ingredient list and was surprised to see white chocolate listed. Instead of combining the coconut with sugar for the filling, they had set it with white chocolate. Nothing wrong with that of course, but the two ingredients have very different crystal structures that result in different textures.

Now if you're someone who prefers less sweet treats or if you have dietary restrictions that require you to track your sugar, these could be a good choice as an "indulgent" snack (as they are marketed). But they won't give you the same experience of, say, a Bounty bar if that's what you were hoping for. And if that's what you were hoping for, I'm not sure you'll be satisfied. It might make more sense to buy the bounty bar and share it with a friend or save half for another day. 

Interestingly, this taste experience aligned incredibly well with my chocolate study this week. I've moved on from Notter's The Art of the Chocolatier and have started reading Chocolates & Confections: Formula, Theory, and Technique for the Artisan Confectioner by Peter Greweling. This beast of a book is a confectioner's bible. In online forums, it's referenced regularly when chocolatiers discuss challenges with particular centres, formulations, etc. Greweling's recipes often are suggested as the starting point for a chocolatier's riffing and experimentation. 

The first chapter, titled "Confectionary Ingredients and Equipment" devotes 5 pages of very small font to sweeteners, their properties, and their applications. For the confectioner, sweeteners aren't just about flavour, they are about function and form. And, as Greweling points out, understanding sugar's "tendency [to crystallize] and knowing how to control it are two of the most fundamental concepts in confectionary" (p.2). Crystal structure is what gives good fudge its characteristic texture. 

And that's also what gives a Bounty bar is form and mouthfeel -- the characteristics that were missing in the low-sugar coconut cup.

Perfect Spheres of Joy

I'm actually writing this entry while sailing to Newfoundland. It's finally that time of year when I make my annual summer pilgrimage home. Traditionally, I would take a night crossing over, picking up a Big Mac combo for the road (or the ocean, if we're being literal), and then a day crossing back, with a bologna sandwich as my traditional meal. Things are a bit different this year because I rescheduled my original booking due to an important milestone deadline for a project I'm working on. Consequently, I find myself on a day crossing with a packed lunch.

What's in that lunch? Well, first, let me tell you that it isn't nearly as spectacular as most of the packed lunches that I saw in the queue waiting to board. You can tell the Newfoundlanders from the visitors by the size and contents of their cooler. Actually, probably the presence of a cooler at all is a tell. I watched as one lady assembled her lunch for a family of three right before boarding started. She filled a large shopping basket with crackers, cheese strings, beef jerky, small bags of chips, pudding, fruit, beverages... There was no end to the snacks! My sister would applaud her style and efforts, and tell me that I'm never prepared.

I am a Newfoundlander though, so you won't catch me on a ferry without a lunch. Complaining about the food prices on Marine Atlantic is a sacred tradition that must be upheld. I have a peanut butter and jam sandwich (which I affectionately refer to as a PBJ), a bag of Cruncheez from my favourite Old Dutch dealer, and two Lindt truffles, with a can of diet ginger ale (Canada Dry, just as BNL would want it). 

Until recently, Lindt truffles were 100% a Christmas thing for me. I would mark the start of the festive season with a Festive Special from Swiss Chalet, which includes a box of five, and I would have a few on Christmas Day from my stocking. (Truth is, I was devastated when Swiss Chalet replaced the Toblerone bar with Lindt truffles. I still wish they would switch back. But I digress...)

The truffle flavours, of course, were pretty standard -- milk, dark, white, caramel... Dependable, for sure, but predictable.

Imagine my surprise, then, the first time I went to the Lindt store in Halifax. I'd heard from a friend that it existed, but my trips to Halifax tend to centre around the downtown core, so I had never visited the box stores that developed on the outskirts of town. That is, until two years ago when my boyfriend and I made our first trip to Halifax for a weekend getaway. I was on a waterslide for the first time in maybe 30+ years, we ate at my favourite Halifax restaurant, and we made a pilgrimage to the Lindt store. 

I had never seen so many different flavours of Lindt truffles before. Naturally, I wanted to try them all and it's easy enough to do exactly that because you can pack your own gossamer bag full of truffles. We decided to get two of every flavour so that we could sample them together and then fill the rest of our small bag with our favourites (like dark chocolate sea salt). We did this again the following year, but got smart and bought the larger bag of 75 truffles. 

Now, not surprisingly, there have been a few flavours that I am more jazzed to try than he is. Among them on the last trip were coconut, mango, and matcha. And it's the coconut and matcha ones that I have here with me now. 

The matcha was of interest to me because I tried making my own a few months ago. While I was happy with the flavour, the texture wasn't ideal. The Lindt version was, of course, incredibly smooth. With a white chocolate shell and ganache, it was overly sweet and the matcha flavour wasn't as prominent as I would have liked it to be. It was just too subtle for my taste. (And what's with the air bubble in the centre?)

The coconut, however, was perfection. It had a milk chocolate shell with a white chocolate ganache that was so creamy it was hard to believe it was made with chocolate. The coconut flavour was present but not overpowering. It was a silky smooth, perfect sphere of joy. 

It would be impossible for a hand-rolled truffle to be so perfectly formed and have such a silky ganache filling (it wouldn't be firm enough to shape and dip in chocolate). But it may surprise you to know that you actually can make a Lindt truffle dupe at home. You see, you can buy trays of pre-formed truffle shells to speed up production. You simply fill them with the flavoured centre of your choice and then cap the little opening with some tempered chocolate, creating a sort of belly button. In most cases, a chocolatier would then roll or dip these in another coating of chocolate, but it isn't necessary (and isn't done with Lindt). 

One tip on the Lindt truffles though: like the chocolate I referenced a few weeks ago, the shells soften in the heat and the centres will actually become liquid. If that appeals to you, then you can stop reading right now, but if you prefer the snap of the shell and the creamy centre, then store them in the fridge in an airtight container during the summer and pull them out for a half hour to come to room temperature before eating them. 

So far, I think my favourite Lindt truffle has been the caramel and sea salt one. How about you? What's your favourite Lindt truffle flavour? Share it in the comments below!