Cookie Dough Snack Bars

Before shutting down the chocolate factory for summer, I decided to make chocolate bars again. More than a year ago, I made a layered bar with a walnut shortbread cookie and walnut gianduja enrobed in dark chocolate. The flavour was spot on, but I erred in the construction. You see, I baked the cookie layer in a silicone mold and then piped the gianduja on top, but when they were turned out and enrobed, the cookie was on the top instead on the bottom where it should be (or at least where I wanted it to be). Because the mold has slightly rounded cavities, I couldn't just turn the bars upside down to change the orientation (the bar would have a flat top and curved bottom). Well, I suppose I could have and called it avant-garde, but I didn't. And so Take 2. 

Using the same bar mold, I decided to make a chocolate chip cookie layer topped with dark chocolate ganache. After flipping through my chocolate library, I found a recipe for "American cookie dough" bars in Callebaut's 600-page book titled The Chocolatier's Kitchen. It was relatively easy and made just enough to fill the 30-cavity mold I was working with. The recipe was a little strange, though, in its measurements (32.2 grams of egg, for example). I also have no idea how one could possibly pipe the cookie dough into the mold as directed because it was a very thick paste. Nevertheless, nine minutes in the oven and step one was complete. 

Two days later, I made the second layer of the bar. While the Callebaut recipe suggested a vanilla buttercream layer that was fondant based, I decided to instead make a traditional dark chocolate ganache. The recipe I chose was one for slabbing, which I hoped would be firm enough to enable enrobing. When the ganache was prepared, I carefully removed each cookie from the silicone mold. Then I piped ganache into each cavity, filling them about half full. Finally, I inverted the cookies and gently pushed them down into the ganache. Ha! Now the cookies would be on the bottom! Pleased with myself (perhaps overly), I left the ganache to crystallize for 24 hours.

In fact, it was more like 48 hours before I got back to enrobe the bars -- but who's counting? Before beginning, however, I decided to try a technique from my chocolatier training to make it easier to enrobe the bars. Adding a chablon to the bottom of the cookie -- at least in theory -- would ensure the bottom of the bar was fully covered in chocolate (instead of having marks left by the dipping fork) and should result in the bar more easily siding off the dipping fork. I tempered a small amount of chocolate and with a pastry brush painted chocolate across the chocolate chip cookies. (I could have used an offset spatula or some other implement, but this seemed to be the easiest option at the time.)

Once the chablon was in place, I tempered my chocolate for enrobing. Now, it was here that things started to go ever so slightly off the rails -- on a few fronts. When I popped my bars out of the mold, some of the ganache was a little too soft and didn't release cleanly. This occurred in about 20% of the bars, but really was only noticeable in 10% of the finished bars. Thankfully, by dropping them ganache side down into the chocolate and then flipping them with the fork, it wasn't problematic (the fork was on the firm, cookie side of the bar). I also didn't temper enough chocolate the first time and so had to do that process twice. Slightly annoying, but it probably only added about ten minutes to the process.

Where things went very right was in the ease with which the bars slid off the dipping fork onto the wax paper lined tray. Incredible. No sticking. No fighting with the bar trying to get it off the fork. No need for a knife to push the bar off the fork. Just a smooth, controlled slide off the fork. The extra time and effort was definitely worth it. As each one came off the fork, I used the tines to decorate the top of the previous bar. As a result, a much higher proportion of the bars were of a quality I am willing to share. 

While the chocolate crystallized, I decided to try one of the few ugly ducklings with a cup of coffee. To my surprise, the cookie layer really did give the flavour and texture of chocolate chip cookie dough. The short baking time was long enough to make them safe for consumption and short enough to give the appearance of unbaked dough. The chocolate ganache layer, which was indeed softer than I'd anticipated, was a delicious pairing. Definitely an excellent flavour combination. 

A few hours later, I wrapped the bars in foil and applied a label. The astute among you will notice that this is a new design. More on that when next we meet... 

But for now, I have a box of chocolate bars to bring home with me and the factory is closed for the summer. 

When I dip, you dip, we dip...

Dipping centres in chocolate is perhaps my least favourite task as a chocolatier -- and that's because it's tricky. If it can go wrong during enrobing, then I've experienced it. I've always struggled to avoid too much of a "foot" on the finished piece. I've also battled over-crystallized chocolate that clings to the dipping fork and leaves marks on the bottom of the chocolate. And as the saying goes, once bitten, twice shy. 

The viscosity of the chocolate, the temper, and the working temperature are all important factors in getting this right. Unless of course you're using compound chocolate or you're adding something like shortening to the chocolate to change the fluidity and/or the set -- but we don't do that around here! On top of this, a good working set-up is crucial so that the movements feel natural. And this is where this week's study has paid off. 

In the Greweling book, there is a diagram of the appropriate set-up for a right-handed chocolatier when dipping centres: undipped centres on the left, tempered chocolate in the centre (tilted toward the chocolatier), and an empty tray on the right to receive the dipped centres (which is filled from right to left). I decided it was definitely worth trying one more time before switching to another method like hand-dipping to see if I would have greater success.

I set up on my dining room table, with caramels on a tray to my left, a thick book directly in front of me, and an empty tray lined with waxed paper to my right. I set a small bowl of coarse sea salt at the back of the tray and got my dipping forks out. Then I tempered my chocolate. It was a little warmer than I normally work with, but when I did the temper test it started to set within 3 minutes, so I proceeded. I placed the bowl of chocolate in the centre, propping the back of the bowl up on the book.

I held the dipping fork in my right hand. With my left hand, I picked up a caramel and dropped it into the chocolate. Then, with the dipping fork, I flipped the centre and then picked it up with the fork, "tapping" the centre on the pool of chocolate a few times before moving it to the empty tray. (This tapping motion uses the surface tension of the chocolate in the bowl to pull any excess chocolate off the centre.) After every four centres, I paused to sprinkle sea salt on the corner of the caramels. Then I stirred my chocolate to ensure even heat throughout the bowl. For a few centres, I tried an alternative method of submerging the centre and swiping the chocolate across the top of it before lifting it out of the chocolate with the fork. That seemed to work just as well, but I quickly reverted to the flip method. I continued in this way until I had the full batch coated. 

Throughout, I was surprised by how easy it seemed to be. First of all, the left to right action just felt smooth and there was no reaching required. Second of all, the tilted bowl made a huge difference, even just in the ability to see the centre without having to lean over the bowl. Finally, that slightly warmer chocolate meant there were no issues of over-crystallization and the chocolate was fluid enough that a huge foot didn't form around the chocolate. And the technique of letting the surface tension of the pool of chocolate pull the excess off of the dipped centre worked better as well because of the fluidity.

The result? This may be my best dipping experience ever!

And the first of four flavours for this year's assortment is now done and dusted (or, more appropriately, done and packaged in an airtight container while awaiting packing).  

Skilled Labour

Several weeks ago, I did some research on Moir's Malted Graham Sandwich Bar in an effort to recreate it. In the process, I stumbled upon a few theses that have been written on the Moir's candy plant that existed first in Halifax and later in Dartmouth. I printed off both to read at a later date and what better time to read them than now, while I'm on vacation! I started with "Femininity and the Factory: Women's Labouring Bodies in the Moir's Candy Plant, 1949-1970" by Margaret Anne Mulrooney (2012). 

This thesis offers unique insight into the Moir's candy factory, as well as the gendered division of labour in this industry, through the personal experiences of eleven women who worked at the Moir's plant. I learned, not surprisingly, that in the post-war era, men held the higher paying jobs of skilled labour (making candy), while women held the lower paying jobs of unskilled labour (packing candy). With this dichotomy established in the introduction, I was surprised about ten pages later when I read that women were responsible for dipping prepared centres in chocolate.

According to Mulrooney, despite the availability of enrobing machines, "Moir's maintained the tradition of hand dipped chocolates well into the 1960s" because a machine was not capable of producing the same appearance (2012: 36). Mulrooney further observes, "Women were responsible for all of the hand dipping at Moir's and were paid at a piece rate" (2012: 37), which at one point was 17 cents for one tray of centres, though there is no indication of how many centres constituted a tray (2012: 45).

And so the neat dichotomy of skilled and unskilled labour, of men's and women's work, becomes messy. Mulrooney suggests that a continuum existed: "These women were considered skilled-labourers but their skill lay somewhere between the unskilled labour of a female packer and the highly skilled work of a male candy-maker" (2012: 37). I suspect the reality, however, is that women occupied positions requiring skilled labour, but they didn't get the recognition or the remuneration for their work that their male counterparts did. 

In my opinion, dipping a centre in chocolate and achieving a perfect finished appearance requires far greater skill than making a centre by following a recipe. 

If you've ever tried to coat a centre of any size, shape, or texture in chocolate using dipping forks, you know that this definitely requires skill. Skill to get an even coating, skill to tap off the excess chocolate, skill to have the coated centre release from the tines of the dipping fork, skill to place it neatly on a tray, skill to have as little "foot" as possible, skill to not have marks from the dipping fork on the bottom of the chocolate. 

Hand dipping chocolates requires superb dexterity and technical skills in addition to perfectly tempered chocolate, or it's a total disaster. And I should know -- I struggled with it during my chocolatier training and to this day I force myself to dip centres a few times a year just to keep up what little skill I have. I would need to be dipping centres on a daily basis to really get good at it -- just as these women did in the Moir's factory. 

Of course there are many other interesting aspects of Mulrooney's research beyond discussion of skilled and unskilled labour, including the way in which some women skirted dress codes (pun intended) and engaged in pranks or sabotage to get relief from working conditions. While a gender study of chocolate production isn't in my future, there were many useful facts about the history of the Moir's chocolate factory peppered throughout the thesis, which I'm sure will prove to be valuable for a future project that I hope to share at some point in the future. How's that for a vague cliffhanger‽

Until then, do you remember the Moir's Pot of Gold chocolates? Which was your favourite? 

When I Dip You Dip We Dip

One of the techniques that I've been struggling with in my professional chocolatier program is enrobing. Part of the struggle has come from the tempering process and learning to hold chocolate in temper without it becoming over-crystallized. Another part of the struggle has come from using the wrong dipping tools (since remedied). And another part has stemmed from coordination and dipping technique. Consequently, I've decided that I need to practice this to get better at it.

Recently for my birthday, one of my friends gave me a small silicone Easter egg mold. At first I thought I'd use it to mold some fruit gummies, but then I realized I could melt down my gianduja, pipe it into the mold, and then enrobe them. In the words of the Barefoot Contessa, How bad could that be?

I popped out my gianduja eggs once they were set. Then I used the direct method to temper a small amount of milk chocolate and enrobed the little eggs. I like the enrobing method advocated by Callebaut. You take your centre, pop it into the tempered chocolate face down. Then, with the dipping fork, you flip it over in the chocolate, and tap off the excess. I only had about 21 of them, so it was a good number to work with. Previously, my batches had produced 64 (or more) centres -- and I found that tiring. The smaller number was more manageable. Great for practice, but not so many as to result in frustration.

I have to say, I'm happy with the result. These are cute and delicious. Part of me does wish I had more -- I would package them up as gifts for Easter. But I think doing small batches more frequently will do more to develop technique over time.

I bet a peanut butter filling would be amazing too.

What's your favourite Easter egg flavour or filling?

What the Heck is a Truffle Anyway?

If you've been following my journey in the Professional Chocolatier program, then you realize by now that there are specific guidelines that have to be met for each assignment. Having completed a caramel, I was on to my next adventure: a truffle (not a ganache made with cream).

Now, I had understood to this point that a truffle was by definition made with ganache and that the definition of ganache was a combination of hot cream and chocolate. So, what exactly was I being asked to make? Confused, I spent a lot of time researching truffles. Most sources stated it was ganache formed into a ball or cone shape and coated in something (chocolate, nuts, cocoa powder). Were the instructions saying that ganache was off limits? Or was it only cream-based ganache that was off limits? And on the school's website I found a recipe for a ganache truffle that was a flat rectangle. So does truffle refer to the centre or the shape or some mystery still to be revealed? Maybe I was over-thinking this, but it seemed like an oxymoron (creamless ganache, ganacheless truffle). Reviewing the assignment again, I saw that the example was a butter truffle, so I began searching for truffle recipes without cream (God bless boolean operators) and found recipes for "water ganache" and wine and butter based truffles. I also found recipes for "pot truffles," but decided that probably wasn't what they intended with this assignment. Eventually, I decided to make a wine-based truffle.

Lucky for me, I had some Newman's port wine left in my cupboard. I prepared the ganache (without cream) and slabbed it, then let it crystallize for 24 hours. Once it was ready for enrobing, I cut it into 1" squares, dipped them in dark chocolate, and decorated them according to the assignment requirements -- a piped decoration made with a contrasting chocolate that had been tinted using candy colours. I chose to combine candy red and sky blue to produce a sort of winey pink colour.

I realized through this process that 1" squares are a little too big when enrobed, not that anyone would really quibble about having too much chocolate, I suppose. Nevertheless, I was really happy with the flavour of the port wine and dark chocolate together. And they looked good too. I do need to practice my enrobing technique more, though. I guess that just means more truffles and bonbons in the future? Or maybe just bonbons. Afterall, I'm still not sure what the heck a truffle is.

Putting the Temper in Temperamental

Over the course of a four week period, I have to develop 5-6 recipes for two assignments in my professional chocolatier program. Because I have to travel in March, I wanted to get started early to make sure I had enough time to complete everything (I am Type A, after all). Consequently, last weekend, I started my first recipe development assignment and spent my Friday evening making marzipan and espresso ganache, both of which turned out extremely well. It was the first time I'd made marzipan and I loved the flavour of the finished product -- much better than anything I could have bought around town. I layered it in an 8x8 pan with the espresso ganache and then left the ganache to crystallize for about 30 hours. I went to bed feeling pretty impressed with myself.

Then on Sunday morning, I set up my kitchen for the day and retrieved the layered slab. My first task was to cut the slab into centres. This was not as easy as I'd anticipated. With a large chef's knife, I made long cuts through the ganache, which was firm, but sticky. After every cut, I had to clean my knife. Quickly I learned the value of a guitar cutter and why chocolatiers prioritize it over other types of equipment. (Mental note: add guitar cutter to the business plan.) Eventually, I had 64 centres ready to be enrobed, but I was very worried about how such a soft ganache would perform in the enrobing process.

Next I tempered my chocolate. The temper test set perfectly, so I was ready to proceed (or so I thought). With confidence, I picked up a centre with my left hand, tossed it into the chocolate with the ganache layer facing down, flipped it over in the chocolate so that the marzipan was now on bottom using a dipping fork in my right hand, tapped to remove the excess chocolate, and set it down on a tray. Then I placed a toasted slivered almond on top. It looked beautiful!

And then I did the second one. Not so beautiful. And the next one -- same thing. The top looked great, but the bonbons didn't want to come off the dipping fork. They were sticking. I tried a different dipping tool. Sticking. I tried regular forks. Still sticking. I cleaned my dipping forks and tried them again. I wanted to scream! After about 18 bonbons, I stopped. Something wasn't right.

I wasn't sure what the problem was, but I wondered if the chocolate wasn't in perfect temper (perhaps it was over-crystallized). So, I heated my chocolate back up to 46 degrees to break down the crystal structure and re-tempered it. About 20 minutes later, I did another temper test (which once again set perfectly) and then returned to my enrobing. I had much more success. This time, there was no "sticking" to the dipping fork. I did find that my dipping fork was too big (the tines too far apart) for my centres, but I switched to a different dipping tool and finished off the batch. By the time I was done enrobing 64 centres and cleaning up my kitchen, I was exhausted, but also very happy. 

I had just learned a very valuable lesson: chocolate puts the temper in temperamental. It isn't simply "in temper" or "not in temper." Instead, there is a continuum of temper (I feel like I'm back in grad school writing a paper on identity...). But I'd recognized the problem and I'd fixed it, which is the whole point of these assignments -- putting theory into practice. I also learned just how valuable a tempering machine is in this sort of process. There is enough to do in the dipping of centres and placing of decorations that you don't want to also have to worry about doing the heating pad-heat gun tempering dance.

Based on the feedback I've received, this flavour combination is a winner. What would you have paired with marzipan?