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. 

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?