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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Always In the Kitchen
© 2003 —
2008
Dawna L. Read