"Cioccolata calda" found

I admit that my search for the "perfect" drinking chocolate has been somewhat "Goldilocks". From cafes in the San Francisco Bay Area, to "the land down under", to my own kitchen, I'm looking for a cup of hot chocolate that is "just right" -- dark, rich, and thick like the one I had in the Franciscan hermitage of La Verna in Italy, which I can enjoy at home. When presented with the opportunity to vacation in Italy over the new year holidays, I knew I needed to go so to continue my quest and to learn more about this chocolate elixir.

I ended 2010 and welcomed 2011 in Italy with my "sweetie" - and I'm not just talking about the chocolate, even though my goal was to experience everything I could that was chocolate, which I did. While drinking chocolate was just one part of the indulgence, it was a big part. (See the full range of chocolate here.)

During my time in Italy in 2009, I was part of a pilgrimage tour, meaning that we had guides who translated. During this 2 week trip, my girlfriend, who is much better at languages than me, was key in helping us navigate the communication barrier. Though my language abilities never caught on, there was one phrase I became a master at saying: "cioccolata calda". These two words became the map in my chocolate search. Unfortunately it was a phrase I didn't grasp until this trip.

Though it means "hot chocolate", cioccolata calda in an Italian cafe is the thick drinking chocolate I had experienced in La Verna, not your American hot cocoa. Throughout Italy, I experienced numerous cups of this dark, rich brew, and began to discover the flavor subtleties in the chocolate blends used.

My first cup of cioccolata calda on this trip came at Hotel La Roca in Assisi where we were staying. Rather than being served from a cafe chocolate machine, this one was prepared in a Cioconat maker, which prides itself as "the first and unique machine that prepares italian style hot chocolate even better than a professional barman." From a list of 5 single packet options, I ordered the extra dark chocolate. After a Cioconat sachet and milk (soy, cow or even water) are poured into the maker, the start button is pushed. A beep tells you it is heated to the right temperature and ready. And when the lever is pushed, a rich, thick drinking chocolate flows into the mug. I was impressed how easy it was, and wanted to take the machine home with me! Though the consistency of the Cioconat chocolate was not as velvety as the one in La Verna, it did have a wonderful dark bittersweet taste, and lived up to its advertised reputation as "an intense sensation of melted chocolate in the mouth." I savored each drop. And because this cafe was in our hotel and had internet access, I had the excuse of enjoying this cioccolata calda twice while in Assisi.

It was in Florence, however, at Caffe Nuove Poste, that I had my idyllic cioccolata calda experience. Along with a chocolate croissant, this drinking chocolate was "to die for" good. Sitting in this little neighborhood cafe, savoring the rich, thick, dark drinking chocolate, while dipping the croissant which had chunks of chocolate inside, I was in Italian cioccolata heaven. It was perfect. Other than having American 1970-80s music playing (which we heard a lot of throughout Italy), this is the type of moment I was looking forward to on this Italian chocolate journey. And not only was the drinking chocolate excellent, and poured out of the chocolate tap by a real Italian barista, it was also on sale/special. My drinking chocolate and croissant were only 1,20 euro which is only $1.60 US! I was so ready to move to Italy.

Everywhere we went, the cioccolata calda was good. Even the 80 euro ($1.07 US) cup I bought from a self-serve machine in the Milan train station was so much better than the powdered hot cocoa mixes at home. Though it wasn't as thick as the ones I had in the Italian cafes, there was a nice balanced chocolate flavor. While I don't know if I would order this unknown Italian pastry again (a crispy cookie on the bottom, topped with a chocolate mousse and coated with a dark chocolate), I know I would get a cup of chocolate from the self-serve again. And I did - on our return train ride.

My girlfriend has family in Pordenone, a little town in the northeastern province of the Veneto Region. Knowing my love of chocolate, they took us to visit Peratoner, the downtown store of their local, internationally recognized chocolatier. Giuseppe Faggiotto founded this pastry and chocolate shop in 1974 to create "a living luxury environment devoted to the Chocolate," and I would testify that he succeeded. The assortment of "pasties" we ordered were both beautiful and delicious, and the cioccolata calda was sensational. While just as thick and rich as I've had in other places, there was an added depth in the flavor of the dark chocolate which stood out as superior. I loved this so much I purchased a bag of their drinking chocolate mix so I could continue my Peratone indulgence at home.

While most of the drinking chocolate I sampled in Italy was dark, in Verona, the cioccolata calda at Cafe Rialto was unique. It was a hot milk chocolate, a difference I could clearly taste. While it was nice and warm with a good thick consistency, it was definitely more milky and some would say smoother in flavor than the typical dark chocolate you find. I of course prefer the dark over the milk chocolate in bars, and as I discovered in this city of Romeo and Juliet, in my drinking chocolate also. (Yeah, I've become a chocolate snob.)

Though I had some wonderful chocolate experiences during our two weeks in Italy, my trip would not be complete with out one final indulgence. Thus, I decided to spend my remaining euros in a chocolate celebration -- cioccolata calda, a chocolate twill, a chocolate "flute", and a chocolate "biscatone" at Culto in the Venice Airport, of all places. The total for this chocolate decadence was just 7 euros ($9.33 US), with the drinking chocolate only 1.70 euro ($2.27 US). Not a bad price for airport food and not a bad way to end my journey. The drinking chocolate was just as I like it -- rich, dark, and dense with a nice bittersweet bite. It was simply, "just right", and because this last cup of cioccolata calda in Italy would need to last me until my next visit, I savored every last drop.

This Italian chocolate adventure confirmed one thing: I love cioccolata calda. I love it dark, rich, and thick. And though it is served in that style all over Italy, it is not easily found at home in America. Or is it?

With a variety of drinking chocolate souvenirs (see above), did I find an Italian-style drinking chocolate I can now savor regularly at home? Find out on the blog tomorrow as the search for the "perfect" drinking chocolate continues.