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.

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.

Saved by the Cake

The table top dessert menu pictured a light brown, German chocolate colored Chocolate Mousse Cake. Would I be disappointed?

I had been looking forward to this dark chocolate delight for weeks since reading its description on the San Jose Old Spaghetti Factory website menu, in preparation for a co-worker's farewell dinner. Vegan-me would first enjoy mushroom marinara pasta, then cacao-me would indulge in my vegan exception - a decadent chocolate dessert.

I would need to wait for the meal to see if my web menu expectations would be met. While the pasta did not meet my culinary preferences, thankfully the dessert did. Being too sour for my liking, the marinara needed pepper to make it tolerable.

Though the cake was delayed because it needed to be defrosted (not something a server needs to voluntarily share with a guest but mine tactlessly did), I was not disappointed when it arrived. It did not look like its faded image on the menu. This pre-fab dessert was dark chocolately brown, and appeared decadent with a generous portion of dark chocolate mousse in the center, embraced by the layers of cake. This was deliciously divine - a balanced blend of chocolate heaven.

I was surprised. While most mousse cakes are lighter and sweeter, this one was dark and dense - almost ganache-like - with a bitterly semi-sweet chocolate flavor. Though the mousse had a sooth texture, there was a subtle waxy grit, probably from the quality of chocolate used. It did however pair nicely with the dark chocolate cake, which on its own was simply a good chocolate cake, rich and satisfying.

While I would have preferred more than a drizzle of fudge on the top to sandwich the layers of flavor below, the chocolate curls on the top and side did create wonderfully appealing bittersweet kicks with each bite.

Overall assessment: 4 cacao beans (out of 5)
The dessert saved this meal from disappointment. While I used to go to the Spaghetti Factory for Mizithra Cheese and Brown Butter (neither of which is vegan). Now I go for the dessert. With their Chocolate Mousse cake, thankfully chocolate is my chosen vegan exception.

Sauced to near perfection

I don't like to be difficult when it comes to food, but as a vegan, it can be a challenge at times, especially during special celebrations. Like the Boy Scouts, "BE PREPARED" needs to be a vegan's motto when eating out. Preparing for my friend's wedding rehearsal dinner at Buca di Bepo in Palo Alto was no exception, as I checked their on-line menu before heading out. I knew what I could order, and knew that cacao-me would save room for dessert. Their Double Dark Chocolate Cake sounded decadently divine, and I wanted a slice.

I did not know until arriving, however, that a set meal had been pre-ordered because of the size of our party. Because no accommodations had been made for vegan-me, I was free to create a meal that suited my needs. Our server Allan was very accommodating and was able to substitute dishes to accommodate my food choices. Though it took a little time for my salad, my vegetables, and my marinara noodles to arrive, all was tasty and satisfying. But there was room for dessert.

Tiramisu was the set-menu dessert and it arrived like all things Buca, in one large family-size serving dish. Allan was apologetic when he informed me that unfortunately there were no vegan desserts he could serve me. Hmm... I really wanted chocolate. What would I do? When I asked him if I could substitute the Tiramisu for a slice of Double Dark Chocolate Cake, he reminded me that it was not vegan. He laughed when I told him that chocolate cake is my vegan exception, and proceeded to bring me a slice.

I was in awe when the large plate arrived. Three thick layers of a lightly frosted chocolate cake were swimming in a rich chocolate sauce. "Ooos" and "ahhs" could be heard from around the table. This would be good. And it was. Yet, it wasn't just good - it was excellent!

Though the top layer of frosting was a tad bit too sweet when sampled on it's own, the moist dark chocolate cake was dense and had a wonderful bittersweet bite which was highlighted by thin layers of a subtly sweet chocolate ganache. Together these components formed a wonderful chocolate trio, but what brought this fresh, house-made dessert to the next level was the specialty Sambuca sauce, or as the menu calls it "our sinful chocolate Sambuca sauce." (Sambuca is an Italian anise-flavored liqueur.) This rich dark chocolate sauce was not drizzled on the cake, but around it. This unique sauce added a whole new depth of flavor, which was intoxicating, creating a "to die for" chocolate quartet, and raising me to my feet for a standing chocolate ovation.

Overall assessment: 4.5 cacao beans (out of 5)
The Sambuca sauce is probably what makes the Double Dark Chocolate cake at Buca the BEST restaurant chocolate layered cake I've sampled thus far. Now if it were vegan, it would be just about perfect!

(review date: 2009_09-18)