Un-American Chocolate in America found

What began as a cup of drinking chocolate at La Verna (Italy) in the summer of 2009 is today a quest to find the "perfect" cioccolata calda at home in the San Francisco Bay Area. It is a passionate pursuit that has brought me to many cafes at home and abroad, in New Zealand, Australia, and Italy. And it has led to many attempts, many many attempts of re-creating a dark, thick, and rich drinking chocolate from "do it yourself" (aka "instant") products at home. I've tasted a lot; I've learned a lot; and I've blogged a lot this week as I share my experiences with this rather "un-American" delicacy during American Chocolate Week. Why, you might ask? Because even though Italian-style drinking chocolate is not easy to find in America, I finally found it locally at home, and that is a reason to celebrate!!

During our drinking chocolate tasting party earlier this year, my chocolate-loving friends told me about a recent article on SF Gate.com on "Where to find hot chocolate in the Bay Area". I asked them to send me the link and was relieved to see that many places I had visited were listed, including CocoaBella, Christopher Elbow, and Bittersweet. I was on the right track in my drinking chocolate pursuits. There were some places I had never heard of, but what excited me the most was the two locations where you could find "European-style" hot chocolate.

The term "European-style" can be ambiguous as it is used differently. At Christopher Elbow, for example, "European-style" refers to the use of water as opposed to milk in the "Classical-style". The article, however, clearly implies that a European-style hot chocolate is "thicker", and can be enjoyed at Emporio Rulli in San Francisco's Union Square, and Almare, "an unassuming gelato shop in Berkeley".

While I don't get to San Francisco downtown very often, I am in downtown Berkeley all the time for school. Has the object of my quest been in my backyard all the time and I just never knew it? I remember walking on Shattuck a year ago and seeing a sign for hot chocolate at a gelato store. Mapquesting the location, I discovered - yes, it is. Almare is located just a few feet from the main entrance of the Downtown Berkeley BART station, a destination I had been commuting to for the past 3 years!

Not needing to be in Berkeley again for a few days, I decided to check out the Almare website and see what they say about their drinking chocolate. There is absolute nothing about chocolate on their website. Everything screams (or should I say, "sings"?) of gelato. The signage at the store, however, reveals that something chocolate is going on inside. The billboard and window display appear to be new as I do not remember seeing them. I have passed by this place numerous times, thinking that this was simply a gelateria. I wonder if the chocolate signs were added after the write up in SF Gate.com. I know if I had seen the signs last year, I'd be in there in a flash!

I was so excited when I entered Almare for the first time at the start of the new spring semester. I probably sounded like a blubbering idiot as I began sharing with the server about my search for an authentic cioccolata calda and how I was surprised to find that it was here the whole time. As I asked about their drinking chocolate, Cel, the server, explained that the owner makes a fresh batch each morning using a combination of three different chocolates, cocoa powder, sugar, and whole milk. It gets warmed up to 190 degrees, and then is kept warm at 140 degrees, continuously mixed in their Ugolini chocolate dispenser, before being served. According to Cel, they do not use corn starch to thicken their drinking chocolate as it cheapens the quality. Instead, the owner's secret recipe, using high quality chocolate, and the proper temperature creates the thick, dark, and rich brew.

My anticipation to try this was high. $3.00 for a regular. $1.50 for a small. I ordered a regular without whip cream, and as it was being dispensed, I closed my eyes and took in the deep chocolate smells that filled the air. While the clear glass serving cup was a bit odd, I gently embraced it in my hands and began to take a seat. This serving portion was a lot larger than the coffee/espresso cups used in Italy, but I was not complaining. Instead, I prepared to indulge in a cup of cioccolata calda at home in Berkeley, and to be swept away with the memories of drinking chocolate in little cafes in Italy.

The consistency of Almare's hot chocolate is just as I would expect. The dark chocolate brew was thick, but smooth and velvety. Though similar to a creamy liquid pudding, it did not have the gelatinous taste that the Italian "do it yourself" instant drinking chocolate mixes had. Instead there was a nice balance of bitter and sweet, with a dark chocolate bite that lingered on the back of the palate, creating a nice tongue feel. It was beautiful. I was in chocolate heaven. And with some reading to do, I spent an hour enjoying my cioccolata calda, knowing that I would be back again, and again, and again.
I had found Italian-style drinking chocolate at home in America, and I was happy.

Happy American Chocolate Week!

THE END.
(Or is it? Stay tuned.)

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.

"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.

A drinking chocolate collection

To say that I have "just a few" samples of drinking chocolate would probably be an understatement today. Since I've had a hard time finding a drinking chocolate at a cafe in the San Francisco Bay Area that is "perfect", my collection of "do it yourself" drinking chocolates has grown. While I have a diverse sampling, none of the powders, shavings, and chips measures up to my La Verna standard. Some have come close in flavor, but all lack the velvety thick consistency I adore. Thus, the search continues (and the collection grows).

While I now have a wide assortment of drinking chocolates, once upon a time, my collection was small. My first package of "do it yourself - just add water or milk" drinking chocolate came in the mail as a gift from a friend in the fall of 2009. My friend had heard that L.A. Burdick in New Hampshire offered an excellent drinking chocolate, and knowing of my search, sent me a gift pack.

My expectations were high as I opened up the brown paper packaging, which contained 12 oz. of chocolate shavings. For a "luxurious cup of hot chocolate," the directions were to whisk 6-8 tablespoons of shaved chocolate into 3/4 to 1 cup of scalding milk. And though I measured everything out exactly and followed the directions to a "tee", there was an out of balance taste in this hot chocolate. I added more shavings, but unfortunately, it still didn't help as the milk overpowered Burdick's 68-75% blend of chocolate.

Over the coming months, I would continue to adjust the proportions of chocolate and milk, but it never came out right. The flavor was not there for me, and the consistency was always watery, never frothy, creamy, or thick, in spite my whisking. While I appreciate the thoughtfulness of my friend in sending this "not cheap" gift, the best part of Burdick's Dark Hot Chocolate was not the chocolate, but the whisk which came with it!

The whisk has been very handy as my collection of drinking chocolates grew after my January 2010 chocolate adventure in New Zealand and Australia, and my palate for drinking chocolate refines. Through taste testing the souvenirs from my favorite chocolate cafes in the "land down under", I am getting closer to satisfying my drinking chocolate passions here at home, but it is still not "perfect".

Hands down, Silky Oaks rivals La Verna as my favorite drinking chocolate. After our tour of this local Napier chocolate company, I chose as my complementary gift the 250 gram tin of their Dark Chocolate Drinking Chocolate. At home, I was anxious to see if this "do it yourself" version measured up to the "Hot Chocolate Extreme" I enjoyed in New Zealand.

Rather than use chocolate shavings, 3 "heaped tablespoons of chocolate drops" were to be added to 180 ml (about 3/4 cup) of milk, which was to be slowly warmed, with the chocolate stirred or whisked until melted. Wanting to get this cup of chocolate right, I carefully followed the instructions. Yet as much as I whisked and warmed, the drinking chocolate at home never thickened up like the version I savored at the cafe. I was disappointed -- until I tasted it. The smooth dark 70% cocoa flavor I had enjoyed on vacation was there, though the consistency was creamy and liquidy, rather than thick and dense. (In the picture, see how the chocolate streams. This isn't something a thicker drinking chocolate would easily do after cooling for a few minutes in a cup.)

The only drinking chocolate I have in my collection, which comes close to the thick consistency I am looking for, is the "do it yourself" Azteca Hot Chocolate mix from San Churro Chocolateria in Melbourne. Though it is not as thick as the drinking chocolate in La Verna, it is not watery like most of the other drinking chocolates I've tried. But most important, I love the the balance of chilli and cinnamon with the chocolate in this Spanish-style drinking chocolate.

Into 1 cup of milk, warmed on low heat, 2 heaped scoops of the chocolate powder is stirred in until the mixture thickens. It took some patience the first few times, but I learned that after about 5 minutes of whisking on low heat, the chocolate does thicken, creating a rich drinking chocolate, similar in consistency and taste to what I remember from my time at this chocolate franchise in the Docklands of Melbourne. I am so glad that I decided to buy their largest tin (500 grams) because I do want to avoid the inevitable -- running out! Because San Churro is an Australian company, getting a refill of this drinking chocolate will not be easy. The same is true for my stash from Silky Oaks.

Thus, I am glad that I eventually found Christopher Elbow in San Francisco's Hayes Valley. When I first sampled this drinking chocolate in their store, I was impressed with how similar in taste it was to my La Verna experience in terms of its "bitter" and "sweet" balance. Very nice, as their premium dark chocolate is infused with natural vanilla bean.

Though it is definitely not thick, 1/2 cup of their Cocoa Noir can be mixed with 1 cup water for a traditional European-style (making it also vegan), or with milk for a "classical style" (though I use almond milk also making it vegan). I have found both preparations enjoyable, as the European-style with water brings out the full flavors of the chocolate, while the classic style with milk creates a creaminess. What is the best blessing however is that these 12 oz tins of drinking chocolate can be purchased locally, making it easy enough for me to replenish when the supply runs out. Gotta love that!

Along with these expensive and high quality drinking chocolates, my collection also includes less expensive, mass quantity hot chocolates like Ibarra's genuine Mexican chocolate, Endangered Species Hot Cocoa, and Trader Joes's Conacado Organic Fair Trade Cocoa. While I tend to prefer the European-style and Spanish (aka spicy) style over these, I still find myself craving the thick, rich, dense drinking chocolate I had in a espresso cup at La Verna.

Thus, when a trip to Italy was planned over New Years 2011, I knew my search for the "perfect" drinking chocolate would take on new significance. What did I discover? How did I indulge? Stay tuned and you'll find out on the blog tomorrow.

Searching for chocolate in the "Land Down Under"

After she retired, my mom made it her goal to travel and see "live" each of the tennis opens. She had been to the U.S. Open and the French Open, and in 2010, she wanted to see the Australian Open. My dad, however, had no such desires. Thus, when the offer came for an all expense paid trip to Australia to accompany my mom, I jumped at the chance. Soon after, a two-week cruise of New Zealand was added to the 4 days in Melbourne in January for the Australian Open.

In researching Kiwi and Aussie sites, I discovered that there were many chocolate destinations. While my mom's big ambition for the trip was to see as much tennis as she could, mine was to sample as much chocolate as I could. And for three weeks, I did - continuing my search for the "perfect" drinking chocolate. Every chocolate drink, dessert, and confection I sampled was photographed. Click here if you don't believe me.

The moment we arrived in Sydney to board the cruise ship to New Zealand, I knew that chocolate would find me on the journey. With a day in the city before leaving port, there was one place I wanted to visit - Guylian Belgian Chocolate Cafe. Though I had mapquested both locations in Sydney, the information was not needed because the shop was literally across the street from the dock. Not able to board ship when we arrived, my "mum" and I shared a wonderful chocolate cake and I sampled my first drinking chocolate in the "land down under."

A piece of dark chocolate filled the bottom of the mug, and began to melt as I poured the warmed milk on top it. To be honest, Guylian drinking chocolate lacked the bold chocolate flavor I desired as it was over-powered by the milk and was sweet. It also lacked the rich, thick consistency. The presentation however was beautiful and a good way to start our trip.

One of the tours offered by the cruise line included a trip to Silky Oaks Chocolate Company in Napier. The package also included a trip to a brewery and a sheep farm. With no desire to see these latter two, I contacted Silky Oaks from the states and arranged a private "Triple Chocolate Temptation" tour for me and my mum. With a museum, private guided factory tour, desserts at the cafe, and a free gift, I was really looking forward to this visit. And it did not disappoint.

Their "Hot Chocolate Extreme" with chili was exactly what I had been searching for. It was thick, rich, and dense with the chili adding a wonderful spicy kick which complemented the dark bittersweet depth of the chocolate. Each spoonful of this warm delicious chocolate brew challenged the La Verna drinking chocolate standard I had set. La Verna was good, but Silky Oaks was with chili better. Add to that one of the best chocolate brownie cakes I've ever had, smothered with a silky dark chocolate sauce, I was ready to move to Napier just to be near this chocolate haven.

The chocolate adventure, however, needed to sail on and soon we were in Wellington, sampling chocolates at Butlers Chocolate Cafe. Though not thick and rich like at Silky Oaks or La Verna, their Hot Dark Chocolate had a rich smooth texture. This 53% cacao dark drinking chocolate was a warm heavenly delight on a cold, foggy Wellington afternoon. Not overly sweet and milky, this cream based drink was a nicely balanced hot chocolate that maintained a slight bitter edge with melted chocolate shavings on top. Also not being watery, it had a nice froth and was smoothingly comforting, making it hard to sip slowly on a damp gloomy day. And the locally baked Cappuccino Coffee cake we had was also wonderful, with a light drizzle of beautiful dark chocolate sauce.

After our New Zealand cruise, the tennis portion of our trip began in Melbourne. Exploring the city's shopping district, my mum and I found the Lindt Chocolat Cafe. Because of Lindt's reputation I was looking forward to this afternoon of chocolate delight. Unfortunately I found myself very disappointed. The "Celebration du Chocolat" cake was just okay, verging on the "too sweet" side; and the dark drinking chocolate failed to impress. A container of chocolate and a pitcher of warmed milk were provided so the chocolate connoisseur could prepare portions according to taste. For me, there was too much milk for the small chocolate creating a bland drinking chocolate that lacked any depth of flavor.

For my mum, Melbourne was all about watching tennis. When we didn't have tickets in the stadium, she wanted to watch the matches in the hotel, rather than explore the city. Being a fan of chocolate rather than tennis, I spent me free time exploring the chocolate world of Melbourne and visiting as many chocolate cafes I could, and I did.

While I visited a some wonderful chocolate places in Melbourne like Chokolait, Theobrama Chocolate Lounge, Cacao, Xocolatl, and Fräus Crêpes & Chocolat, and even tagged along on a portion of Melbourne's Chocoholic Tours and chatted with the guide, my drinking chocolate walking journey had 2 highlights and 1 very low light:

One of the first places I found (and one of the best) was Koko Black, which has "chocolate salons" throughout Australia and two in Melbourne. I visited the smaller one on Collins Street first, and by chance, later that day, found the one at Queen Victoria Market where I had the opportunity to meet the chocolatier. Because my first day of chocolate touring started as a cold morning, I ordered Koko Black's Hot Chocolate with chili. Though not a thick Italian-style, this freshly brewed Belgian-style cup of drinking chocolate was both beautiful to the eyes and the palate. Their traditional Belgian recipe blends full cream milk, cream and 54% dark chocolate, creating a creamy, frothy drink. For me, the rich depth of the chocolate hit first with the chili providing a warm lasting undertone to create an excellent drinking chocolate. The chili heat was more subtle than direct which was nice as the chocolate starred in this drink.

The other highlight was Chocolateria San Churro in the Docklands, which features the best of Spanish chocolate, hot chocolate imported from Spain, churros and other traditional Spanish sweets. Again, not as thick as Italian-style drinking chocolate, the Aztec I ordered was definitely, in more ways than one, "shit-hot" (Aussie slang for "extremely good"). The chili spice, which heats your taste buds in the beginning, brings the creamy dark chocolate immediately to a new level with subtle hints of cinnamon adding a warmed sweetening. Definitely spicy hot, but well-balanced with the chocolate, and a favorite.

The one lowlight was the place I had planned to have lunch. The name, "Hot Chocolate and Fish Chippery" intrigued me, but the whole experience was extremely disappointing. The hot chocolate was simply lousy, milky and bland. And while the Chocolate Cake was dense, which I like, it was a bit chunky in texture, oddly chewy, with a ganache frosting which had a sour chocolate bite. On some levels it tasted like a bad, thawed frozen dessert. In spite how disappointing the chocolate, I did have a nice salad for a balanced meal!

Yes, my time in New Zealand and Australia was "all about the chocolate," and most of it was good, very good (the cruise ship, being the exception, but that's a different story). Even though I did not experience any drinking chocolate just like the one from La Verna, which I still idolize, I learned a lot about the variety of hot chocolate which is out there, in particular the Belgian and Spanish, aka "spicy styles."

In the "land down under," I was also amazed by the numerous chocolate franchises, cafes, lounges, and salons, which feature drinking chocolate, chocolate desserts, chocolate confections, and chocolate "home supplies." Thus, it should not surprise anyone that my souvenirs from New Zealand and Australia were all chocolate-related, intended to help me find my chocolate exlixir and enjoy excellent drinking chocolate at home.

What chocolates did I bring home and how did they measure up? Stay tuned and find out on the blog tomorrow.

In search of my chocolate elixir

It might have been the divine mystique of La Verna, but that one cup of Italian-style drinking chocolate in the summer of 2009 became my chocolate elixir. It sparked a quest in me to find a drinking chocolate at home that would rival that Tuscan moment.

My journey for the "perfect" drinking chocolate has brought me to many places, and more often than not, I've been disappointed. Even in North Beach San Francisco, the places I visited did not serve an Italian-style drinking chocolate, but instead featured an American hot chocolate, made from powder, and most often, branded "Ghirardelli."

Nothing against Ghirardelli, mind you, as it is a San Francisco tradition, and thus, it was my first stop to find a drinking chocolate after returning from Italy. At the time, I was still a novice in drinking chocolates, but my palate knew what it was desiring. Ghirardelli's "Decadent Drinking Chocolate" may have had a pleasant bittersweet bite, living up to its description as "intense chocolate flavor in every rich velvety sip," but this American cup of chocolate was not "it." It lacked the rich dense texture and balanced depth of chocolate flavor for which I longed. And for $4.95 a cup, it felt like a big tourist rip-off.

It was in Oakland, at Bittersweet Cafe, that I found my first drinking chocolate in the states that began to revile in taste what I enjoyed in Italy. Made with water rather than milk, this was more "European" than "Italian," but it had a balanced bittersweet chocolate bite that I enjoyed, even though it lacked the thick consistency for which I longed. For a local place with locations (at the time) in Oakland and San Francisco, this was very promising at $3.95 a cup, though out of the way for me to get to regularly. Though I enjoy a cup of their standard Bittersweet (and have a frequent buyer card to prove it), I knew I would continue to search until I found a place that was "just right."

At Oaxacan Kitchen in Palo Alto, I discovered a different kind of drinking chocolate that I have come to also enjoy - Mexican-style drinking chocolate, which adds cinnamon and often chili, reflecting the origins of chocolate. Experts believe that the Olmec people in Mesoamerica were the first to crack open a cocoa pod from a cacao tree around 1200-200 B.C.E. The Aztec and Mayan civilizations inherit this "food of the gods" and use cocoa beans to make a drink known as "chocolatl," which is said to mean, "bitter water." The beans were dried, crushed, mixed with water, and flavored with chili or vanilla, served on special occasions -- hot for Mayans, and cold for Aztecs.

The version of Mexican drinking chocolate at Oaxacan Kitchen was served warm, infused with cinnamon, and accompanied by chocolate ice cream and a "to die for" flourless chocolate cake. While the drinking chocolate was creamy, it was a bit too subtle in its milky chocolate flavor for my tastes. The cinnamon was nice, but a dash of chili or cayenne would definitely have enhanced the flavor profile and would have added the spice it needed.

With a friend in town in the fall of 2009, I had the opportunity (or excuse) to check out a few more chocolate places in San Francisco on my hunt for a good drinking chocolate. On the San Francisco Gourmet Chocolate Tour, I was exposed to many new fine international chocolate destinations that I didn't know existed downtown.

On our 3-hour tour which began at the Ferry Building and ended near the Powell Street BART station, we visited two places that offered drinking chocolate. The first was Leonidas in the Crocker Gallery on Post Street. To be honest, it has very watery and weak in chocolate taste. Not a repeat performance for me, though the truffle from this Belgian chocolate company was very nice.

The other place on our tour that served drinking chocolate was Cocoa Bella in the Westfield San Francisco Centre on Market Street. After sharing about my disappointment at Leonidas, the chocolate barista assured me that their drinking chocolate would definitely suit my chocolate palate. Because it was getting cold and this was our last stop, I decided to order a spicy drinking chocolate for the road. Made with milk and spiced with cayenne, cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves, it had a smooth slightly creamy texture and a nice kick that needed to be slowly sipped. The flavor was fine (what I had expected at Oaxacan Kitchen but didn't get), yet it was not rich and thick, and found me still not totally satisfied. I probably should have ordered their "classic" with dark chocolate instead.

On our way to the car after our chocolate tour, my friend wanted coffee. Being near Philz, I knew this is where we needed to go. While I wasn't planning on ordering anything, the barista, Jacob, hearing of my drinking chocolate obsession, made up a cup of their hot chocolate "on the house" to demonstrate that they do serve a good chocolate, not simply an overly sweetened hot cocoa. Though already on a slight chocolate high, this third drinking chocolate ended up being the day's best. Though not thick and creamy in texture, it was a balanced bittersweet brew. The fresh sprig of crushed mint added a wonderful depth to the already rich dark chocolate flavor.

When Philz opened in Berkeley, just blocks from my school, I would make periodic stops for their "hot chocolate." While not exactly what I crave in a "drinking chocolate," it does satisfy my palate, especially when my first choice in Berkeley isn't open! At Cioccolata di Vino, the owner, Rebecca, uses her homemade chocolate ganache as the base for her "drinking chocolate," which she then infuses with a touch of vanilla. It is wonderful, and though not rich, thick, and dark like I savored in La Verna, the Italian cafe atmosphere of this little local restaurant, does satisfy my spirit on many levels, especially when she allows me to study there in the afternoon and enjoy her chocolate chip cookies, fresh from the oven. (It's hard to believe, that with all my visits there, I don't have a picture of me and a cup of her drinking chocolate!)

To be sure, during the first six months of my quest, I did locate some good quality drinking chocolate in the San Francisco Bay Area. Though nothing was "perfect" when compared to my experience in La Verna, I felt satisfied -- satisfied, that is, until January 2010 when my drinking chocolate tastes went on an international tour. Three weeks in New Zealand and Australia changed my expectations and standards, and you'll find out how in my next blog post tomorrow. The drinking chocolate search continues.

Celebrating Un-American Chocolate this week

Today, Sunday March 20, 2011 begins the 20th annual celebration of American Chocolate Week. To be honest, I've hemmed and hawed about how to celebrate this year. Last year, I blogged about my chocolate study breaks with chocolate reviews and recipes. This year, I've not been so inspired.

My difficulty is simple: I've not been inspired by any AMERICAN chocolate this entire year. Though I've been incredibly infrequent in blogging about chocolate, I've been anything but infrequent in sampling chocolate. But unfortunately, most of my experiences, especially when it came to American-style chocolate, have left me longing for something more refined, namely European-style chocolate.

Thus, I've decided to be very un-American this year and to celebrate 2011 American Chocolate Week blogging about the most non-American chocolate I've come to love - that is, European Drinking Chocolate. For me, drinking chocolate, especially cioccolata calda (Italian Style Drinking Chocolate), is the ultimate form of chocolate enjoyment, and finding an excellent cup here in America has become a secondary chocolate pursuit (next to my search for the perfect chocolate cake, that is).

This week you'll learn more about my growing passion for drinking chocolate and how I now get my fix here in America.

My obsession with drinking chocolate all began in Italy in the summer of 2009 in the mountain hermitage of La Verna. (You can read the full story here.) I was on a Franciscan pilgrimage, and during our long bus ride from Assisi to La Verna, Brother Joe, one of our pilgrimage leaders, mentioned that when we stop, we should each try a cup of "drinking chocolate."

Up to that time, "drinking chocolate" was simply "hot chocolate," namely, a packet of instant powder and water, and often too sweet for my chocolate tastes. Brother Joe said that Italian-style drinking chocolate is nothing like anything you find in America. It's actually good. My curiosity was piqued, and when the bus stopped, I was the first one at the counter, ready to order, with Brother Joe's assistance in translation, of course.

For 2 euros, I was given an espresso cup filled with thick, warmed chocolate. I gently stirred the cocoa brown potion with the small spoon that was provided, and breathed in the rich, inviting chocolate aroma. It was heavenly. The chocolate itself was thick, not watery or even creamy, but instead, like a smooth melted chocolate bar or a velvety liquid pudding. Though it is hard to describe its consistency in words, as I lifted the spoon and slowly sipped, I knew I was hooked.

Though this cup of drinking chocolate did not have the dark bitter bite (or color) that I appreciate in a chocolate cake, it had a deep, semi-sweet flavor that was very smooth, in spite its thick liquid consistency. Though I do not know the La Verna recipe, the drinking chocolate I enjoyed had a chocolate profile very similar to the 53% cacao bar I brought home as a souvenir.

Very simply, the warmth of the drinking chocolate, its evocative smell, and its luscious taste were intoxicating. I licked the inside of the cup clean.

Returning home, I began a new quest: to find an Italian-style drinking chocolate here in the USA. Over the coming days, you'll read in this blog what I discovered, and you'll learn that it took trip to Australia and another trip to Italy before I discovered that what I was looking for was literally right in my own backyard here in America!

Happy American Chocolate Week.