Bittersweet Romance

My love affair with chocolate began at a fairly early age. I assume that most people have a similar experience, because while I have met people who do not care for chocolate, they are decidedly in the minority. A perplexing minority, to be sure! After all, what’s not to like?

Chocolate is generally accepted as a favourite (perhaps the favourite) sweet treat, and no small number of people laughingly describe themselves as “chocoholics” – although that is a term I would vigorously contest. Let us be clear about one thing from the start: most of the products in the candy aisle of the drugstore are not chocolate. Oh, yes, they will have a small amount of chocolate in the ingredients list, or a chocolate coating, or even artificial chocolate flavouring, but there is very little actual chocolate flavour. In the USA, if a candy product has less than 10% concentration of chocolate liquor (pure cocoa solids and cocoa butter without additives) it cannot be classified as a chocolate product – hence the term “candy bar” as opposed to “chocolate bar.” In Europe, the bar is set rather higher with a minimum requirement of 25% cocoa solids (not including cocoa butter) for the most dilute form of chocolate that can still be legitimately called chocolate – milk chocolate.

Some people prefer the milder, creamier taste of milk chocolate to dark chocolate, especially if they were raised on drugstore candy bars as the standard for chocolate. In addition to the implied dairy content – usually milk powder or condensed milk - milk chocolate tends to have more sugar added to it, which feeds into the sugar-junkie culture we inhabit. Sweet-equals-treat in our society, and I have no complaint with that notion. However, in a world where we have refined our sugars into products like High Fructose Corn Syrup and spindled out intense artificial sweeteners, our palates are so jaded that we can barely identify naturally occurring sugars, such as those found in carrots and many fruits. We don’t tend to think of these things as sweet, because we are entirely too accustomed to eating such large quantities of sugar. It’s in everything. Many, if not most, packaged prepared foods have a certain amount of sugar in the ingredients list, because while our palates are jaded, our hind-brain is not. Our hind-brain (or Monkey Mind) senses the sugar and tells us that what we are eating is safe and good, which leads to a feeling of satisfaction. We eat so much sugar in our everyday foods that we need our sweet treats to be even sweeter. So, we load up our chocolate with lots of sugar to boost it into the proper category. It is this added sugar that so-called chocoholics are addicted to, not the chocolate.

Now, I do not eat unsweetened chocolate for fun, although I have eaten it. Chocolate is not a mild flavour. It is intense and bitter and almost astringent, and it sends my brain mixed messages because I, too, incorrectly associate the flavour of chocolate with sweetness and my brain tells me that there’s something wrong with the stuff I have in my mouth. It’s not that sugar and chocolate don’t belong together, because they do; some of the most wonderful desserts to be had contain sugar. It’s that I don’t want the sugar (and, to be fair, any other ingredients) to overwhelm the chocolate flavour, which is by nature both sharp and rich. As a result, I have tended toward semi-sweet chocolate for most of my life, and as I get older and develop a greater appreciation for bitter flavours I find myself gravitating toward the darkest of chocolates – those with the least amount of sugar added (while retaining a slight sweetness) and the highest proportion of cocoa solids. This, I am finding, is where the pleasure is to be found in chocolate.

It is a more sophisticated pleasure than that which we get from sugar, to be sure. Not that there is anything wrong with a good sugar rush – I haven’t given up my taste for the sweet things so easily, and I still think that the best celebratory cakes are those made with chocolate. It is interesting to me, how much my tastes have changed as I get older. I move steadily toward the darker and more bitter chocolate with the same evangelical sense of discovery as a beer aficionado enthusing about a good pint of bitter, and how so many modern products are watered down, meek if not down-right insipid versions designed to please people who are frightened of strong flavours. Someone who is seriously interested in the flavour of beer (as opposed to simply enjoying one particular brand) will continue to seek out the purer and most traditional styles in their search for understanding and appreciation. The same progression applies to chocolate.

The earliest chocolate preparations were generally in beverage form. Mesoamericans (often attributed specifically to Mayans) ground cacao seeds with chiles, ground maize, and water to create a frothy, bitter drink that was so important culturally that it was used in ceremonial events and religious rituals. Other ingredients included vanilla beans and achiote – the seeds from the annatto tree that would turn the chocolate drink a dark, bloody red. If any sweeteners were used, and I couldn’t find record of any, they would likely have been honey or agave syrup, as modern sugar was not available.

Where chocolate and sugar really came together was in Spain. Perhaps the most spectacular treasure that the Spanish found in the new world was cacao. Unaccustomed to the bitter taste, the Spanish were quick to try adding sugar and cinnamon to the chocolate drink, and introduced the molinillo stirring stick to aid in the frothing of the liquid. Originally a luxury item for the rich and powerful, chocolate in Spain was drunk as a restorative. Both high in calories and containing a small amount of caffeine, chocolate would give a bit of a boost to those who could afford its charms. Eventually, after a surprising length of time, chocolate caught on in other European countries, and spread out in popularity from there.

In addition to the caffeine – a laughably small portion by today’s Red Bull and Starbucks standards, chocolate contains a chemical called theobromine. Like caffeine, theobromine belongs to the methylxanthine group of plant chemicals. It contains a mildly stimulating effect, has diuretic properties, and can even smooth bronchial muscles. Every February, some magazine or newspaper article trumpets about how chocolate is actually good for us, and in fact it has some direct medicinal uses – specifically in conjunction with digitalis to relieve dilatation in heart-failure cases, and even to treat high blood pressure, thanks to its ability to dilate blood vessels. Chocolate lovers can also rejoice that dark , or bittersweet chocolate contains antioxidant benefits. Antioxidants, all the rage in preventive medicine, help protect the body against disease. While chocolate may have as much (or more) antioxidant properties as tea or red wine, the high saturated fat content means that the jury is still out as to any net health benefits.

The darker the chocolate, the higher the level of theobromine – good for us humans, but terribly dangerous for our four-legged friends. Theobromine is toxic to dogs, cats, horses, and other domestic animals, because their bodies cannot metabolize it properly. Most “chocolate” flavoured pet treats are actually made from carob – and while you won’t trick any moderately savvy child with carob, dogs don’t care. Chocolate toxicity is a terrible thing for an animal to go through, and must be treated immediately by a veterinary professional. It can be fatal. It’s horrifying how many people give their pets chocolate – the tiny amounts of theobromine in drugstore chocolate may not have an immediate effect, but because their bodies cannot metabolize it, even those small amounts from periodic treats can build up to dangerous levels until it is too late.

Unsurprisingly, most cases of chocolate toxicity in veterinary facilities occur during the Christmas holidays – when little Rover “unwraps” the box of high-quality chocolates under the tree and at Easter, when Rex finds the basket of goodies before Junior. Please be careful where you put unguarded chocolate, if you have a pet that likes to get into things. Better to give them harmless carob, while we snack on the good stuff.

Chocolate is a singular indulgence. It can be both food and medicine, broadly speaking, and evokes a strong response in most partakers. We have chocolate themed parties, wax rhapsodic over chocolate-dipped fruits and nuts, and we insist on it for important holidays and celebrations. We rationalize why we should eat or drink it, we have decided notions on exactly what style and preparation is best, and we have arguments about whether “white chocolate” which contains cocoa butter but not cocoa solids is really chocolate at all. I’ll leave that one up to you. As for me, I will continue to enjoy my chocolate – the darker and more dangerous, the better.
 

March 2006

Additional Clickage:

Cooks Illustrated Chocolate Guide
Wikipedia: Chocolate

PSSST!

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