The Italian job

After two weeks of cioccolata calda indulgence, my return from Italy sparked a new passion in my search for the "perfect" drinking chocolate. At home, here in the USA, I want to enjoy a hot chocolate in the Italian-style - dark, thick, and rich. In sharing about my search, two fellow chocolate-lovers, who are also looking for a local cioccolata calda, suggested we make a "chocolate run". Rather than going out to indulge, however, we decided to bring our hunt "in" by having a drinking chocolate tasting in their home.

My collection of "do it yourself" (aka "instant") drinking chocolates grew by leaps and bounds when I returned from Italy. Rather than bring the "cheap stuff" from my collection to our chocolate party, I decided to bring the "good stuff", which included double chocolate vodka (really good in making a "so-so" hot chocolate fabulous), along with the drinking chocolate I bought at Peratoner in Pordenone. To be honest, taste expectations were high.

When enjoying the cioccolata calda at the Peratoner cafe in Pordenone, Italy, there was an added depth in the flavor which set this thick drinking chocolate apart as truly superior. Thus, in preparing to reproduce this drinking chocolate from the pre-made powder in Mountain View, California, USA, I wanted to carefully follow the directions. I had high hopes that this Italian drinking chocolate from an internationally recognized Italian chocolatier, brought back fresh from Italy, would be the answer to my longings for a drinking chocolate to enjoy at home.

The challenge in preparing Italian drinking chocolate from Italy is that the directions are, of course, in Italian! Thanks to Google translate we learned that:

"Far bollire il latte/acqua; appena giunto ad ebollizione spegnere immediatamente e versare la miscela mescolando con un frustino per un minuto. La tua Cioccolata Peratoner e pronta da gustare."

means:

"Boil the milk / water, just come to a boil and immediately pour off the mixture, stirring with a whisk for one minute. Your Peratoner Chocolate is ready to serve."

This chocolate could be made with either water or milk, as the package also read: "L'utilizzo dell'acqua vi fara riscoprire il cacao in natura." ("The use of water will make you rediscover the cocoa in nature.") Thus, we prepared our Cioccolata Peratoner both ways. The difference between the milk and water preparations were visibly obvious. The milk-prepared chocolate had a lighter creamy color, while the one with water was clearly darker. In spite my carefully following the directions, including "stirring with a whisk for one minute", neither version developed the thick dense consistency I had enjoyed at the Peratoner cafe just weeks earlier.

Disappointed, I knew that taste would be the real test. Unfortunately, I found myself doubly disappointed as neither had the depth of dark chocolate flavor I remembered and craved. The one made with water definitely had a more bitter bite than the one with chocolate which was a bit more smooth, but neither had the well rounded bitter+sweet that I found superior to others in Italy. Had I made it all up? These two mugs of watery, bittery chocolate were not it. My friends agreed that they were bad. One suggested I use the remaining "miscela per cioccolata calda" ("hot chocolate mix") as cocoa powder in baking instead.

After trying three other drinking chocolates, the consensus seemed to be that Schokinag's Moroccan Spice, which I received as a graduation gift last year, was the best. Though it did not have the thick consistency we were all looking for, this "European Drinking Chocolate" from Germany, made from tiny chocolate morsels, had a nice balance of spices. Though a thick Italian-style drinking chocolate did not emerge from our tasting party, we did have an excellent time (in spite all the dishes!)

I was disappointed that the "good stuff" I had purchased in Italy did not "thicken" up to our expectations. I began to wonder if the "cheap stuff" would. I needed to try. Staying with family friends while in Italy, we had the opportunity to check out local grocery stores. At the various locales, I wandered into the chocolate section and purchased what looked to be drinking chocolate mixes. Not knowing Italian, I simply took my best guesses, but words like "denso e cremoso" and "densa come al bar" gave me the impression that I was on the right track.

Two types of "cacao in polvere" (cocoa powder) I tried on my own at home - Perugina and Despar - were more like a typical American-style hot chocolate in consistency, but in taste, were definitely Italian. Though I used Google translate to learn the difference between "amaro" and "zuccherato", I didn't need it after giving the two chocolates a taste. Labeled "amaro", the Perugina was definitely "bitter", unsweetened, in need of sugar. A cup may be pictured on the box, but I will probably use this cocoa powder for some good Italian baking. Even though it is bitter, it does not have the acidic bitter taste which I find in Columbian-roast coffee and do not like. The Despar brand, labeled "zuccherato", may have been "sweetened", but was far from the overly sweetened American-style hot chocolate.

Though these two drinking chocolates didn't thicken up as a cioccolata calda, I was hopeful that the two other boxes of drinking chocolates would. The first one I tried was Ristora's Cioccolata in Tazza ("chocolate in a cup"), which promised to be "densa come al bar" ("thick like a bar"). I interpreted "bar" as in "cafe bar" (not "candy bar"), thus this individual serving size package, when mixed with milk, should thicken up like a cafe bar's cioccolata calda. The instructions clearly alluded to that reality also. Would this be the drinking chocolate for which I'd been searching?

Thankfully I didn't need Google translate to prepare Ristora's drinking chocolate. The directions, printed in English, Italian, Greek, and German, provided a major piece of information that I had been needing: "For a thicker drink, increase boiling time; for a thinner drink, increase milk dosage." May be some of the drinking chocolate which had failed to thicken simply needed more time to boil. Something to consider.

After pouring the bag contents into a saucepan, I slowly added the milk, as directed, and brought to a boil on a low flame, "stirring continuously until desired thickness is reached." I desired mine thick so I knew I would stir and stir with my whisk until I had success. I was determined. After five minutes of continuous whisking, I noticed that something was happening to the chocolate liquid in the pot. It was actually thickening! Eight minutes in and the brew was looking more gelatinous as my hand was getting tired. Whisking and stirring, ten minutes in, switching hands every so often, I began to see in my chocolate pot, the drinking chocolate consistency that was familiar in Italy, but never realized at home. I was creating a hot chocolate "densa come al bar"! I was so ecstatic.

I poured this dark brown chocolate brew into a small espresso-size chocolate cup, which I received as a gift but never had yet used, and (after taking a picture), savored each dark chocolate sip. While the consistency was thick and dense, it was more clumpy and congealed than velvety and smooth. And in terms of taste, it was a good chocolate balance though a tad bit more sweet than bitter. But I was not complaining. I had found a drinking chocolate to enjoy at home. The only problem -- this one box of Ristora's Cioccolata in Tazza, which I purchased in Italy, only had five individual packets! An online search revealed that unless I travel to Italy, once these five are gone, they are gone.

I did however have a five packet box of Cameo's Ciobar - a "gusto fondento" ("bitter taste" aka "bittersweet") drinking chocolate which claimed to be "denso e cremoso" ("dense and creamy"). Would Cameo's Ciobar (which means "what bar?" in Italian) prove to be just as successful as Ristora's Cioccolata in Tazza in creating a thick cioccolata calda?

Like preparing Ristora's, the directions for Cameo's were thankfully in English and Italian, and followed similar procedures. Five minutes of whisking again saw a thickening take place, and after ten minutes, a thick, dark and dense chocolate brew had formed. Unlike Cioccolata in Tazza, which was a bit more clumpy, Ciobar poured like velvet. I was impressed. The picture doesn't even begin to capture the beauty of it - especially as I tried to pour from the pot and press the camera button at the same time! Though the consistency was smooth, Cameo's Ciobar cioccolata calda reminded me of a liquidy instant chocolate pudding, and not in a good way. The gelatinous taste was strong, overpowering the chocolate on some levels and creating a cheapened version of the excellent drinking chocolates I had in Italy. Yet I still enjoyed every last drop knowing that even though it was not "perfect" I had found what I was looking for - a dark, thick drinking chocolate I could enjoy at home.

Overall I am grateful to have a few remaining packets of instant cioccolata calda to savor. But the reality is, I will run out. Though I prefer the taste of Ristora's Cioccolata in Tazza, I can order Cameo's Ciobar online from Il Mercato Italiano. But the other draw back to these "do it yourself" mixes is that they require a lot of time and energy to prepare. Ten minutes of whisking does get tiring! Lazy me would rather head to a little cafe and order a real cioccolata calda, freshly brewed and personally served.

Does such a place exist in the San Francisco Bay Area? According to SF Gate.com, it does. And on the blog tomorrow you'll discover what I learned. Italian-style drinking chocolate can be found "at home", and it is closer than I ever would have imagined.