Ready, set, choco!
Six restaurants in two hours: Our writer OD’s on choco dishes in a marathon homage to the Chocolate Show
- Metromix.com
- By Jacqui Gal
Photo: Jori Klein
Read this article on Metromix.com
Some offers in life are just too good to resist. Take this story assignment, for example. To celebrate the 10th anniversary of New York’s Chocolate Show, an entire week has been dedicated to the delectably gooey stuff. Pastry chefs at restaurants around town have joined in the Chocolate Week festivities by offering special chocolate dishes, cocktails or entire chocolate-tasting menus, with both sweet and savory applications.
The Challenge
My editor asked me to hit six participating restaurants in two hours, and chronicle my journey in a chocolate diary. Despite the fact that my jaw dropped four full inches when I first opened his delightful e-mail, there were several complications. My freelance writing schedule was looking pretty hectic around this time, plus my mother was visiting for a couple of weeks from Australia.
But when it comes to chocolate, you simply have to adjust. I would somehow squeeze in the writing time, and mom would just have to come along. It wasn’t going to be easy, though, having her calorie-conscious eyes watching my every chocolate spoonful.
The Research
The chocolate dishes on offer at the Chocolate Week Web site were intriguing. Some were dangerously tempting: “hot chocolate spiked with Godiva liqueur and Chambord, topped with pink spun sugar bouffant”; others, playful: “chocolate soup dumplings”; and some sounded downright scary: “smoked trout caviar with white chocolate miso parfait, lemon & chive biscuit.” But I wasn’t worried. When it comes to chocolate, surely even bad must be pretty good.
The Rush
12:30 p.m.: I meet with my mom and our trusty photographer at Artisanal where, according to my research, a blue-cheese chocolate truffle is the special dish on offer. Once management got wind of my story, however, they insisted we also try their signature chocolate fondue and their warm chocolate tart with caramelized pear and salted caramel ice cream. How could we refuse?
The truffle arrives, paired with a dessert wine—the 2005 Le Mute sur Grains de la Rectorie—and it’s lovely, but I don’t feel the blue cheese. Then I take a good big bite of it, and (with a little imagination) I could taste the cheese, subtly.
When the fondue and warm chocolate tart arrive, we all dive in. The salted caramel ice cream is a nice counterbalance to the warm tart. And among the delectable bites for fondue dipping are some feather-light marshmallow squares. Very, very good.
Even though my mom is clearly enjoying herself, she suggests that I don’t eat too much. “Just eat a bit of each thing, so you’ll be able to taste everything,” she tells me. To the photographer, she says, “You can eat anything you want.”
Making our way to the next location, my mom says: “This is fun. We’ll walk it all off, right?”
1:20 p.m.: We arrive at Rickshaw Dumpling Bar, already half an hour behind schedule. But the counter service is swift, and within a few minutes I am seated and ready to tuck into my chocolate Shanghai soup dumplings, with melted Callebaut chocolate in a black sesame mochi wrapper.
Despite considering myself a chopstick expert, I make a critical error with my first dumpling. Sensing its weight, I decide to skewer a chopstick through the side, so I won’t drop it. When I bite into the dumpling, the chocolate soup squirts out of the skewered holes and I get nothing but a mouthful of powdery mochi dough.
Unfazed, I try again, this time grabbing the dumpling in hand and taking a big bite. It’s an exquisite feeling—having a warm chocolate river explode in your mouth—and definitely worth trying.
Hoping to make up for lost time, we dash out and flag down a cab by 1:36 p.m.
1:43 p.m.: We arrive at Chocolat Michel Cluizel at ABC Carpet & Home and learn that there are no chocolate dishes on offer because they are “between pastry chefs right now,” so I settle for a selection of 10 bonbons.
Perusing the glass cases, the phrase “kid in a candy store” comes to mind, and I am jazzed to be able to choose whatever I want. Among others, I choose the Bouchon, a Bordeaux ganache covered in dark chocolate and wrapped to look like a cork; the Macarolat Framboise, a pink-hued white-chocolate shell filled with crunchy praline and raspberry marmalade; and the Guignette, a chocolate-covered morello cherry, filled with Kirsch.
We’re running out of time, and I discover that it’s not so easy to eat bonbon after bonbon (despite what my wildest dreams would have dictated), so I ask for a carry bag and we are on our way.
As we leave, I am definitely feeling a little chocolate (and Kirsch) buzz. And on the way, my mom reminds me that it’s OK to spit. “Like wine tasters,” she says.
2:10 p.m.: I have officially lost my mother inside the City Bakery, and I now realize that we are running irrevocably behind schedule. But I think there’s a lesson in that: You can’t rush good food.
Now, although they’re not officially participating in Chocolate Week, I have longed to taste City Bakery’s thick hot chocolate, homemade marshmallows and wickedly good melted-chocolate-chip chocolate cookies. Besides, it was right on our route, and the counter service is quick, so I order the lot.
I learn that there is actually no difference between the chocolate shot and the regular hot chocolate, and both are extremely thick. In fact, it’s too much for me, and by the time I take a bite of the marshmallow I think I’m going to be sick.
Now, I’m looking at the city bakery cookie—an object of desire in everyday life—and thinking, “I know it’s great,” but at this point, I don’t even want it.
2:32 p.m.: Defeated, we arrive at P*ong, where chef Pichet Ong kindly allowed up to interrupt his prep time to make us a sample dessert. This is shaping up to be my favorite stop, because only here do we have the chef chat with us and explain his creation as we taste it.
While we’re waiting for the milk chocolate and chestnut truffle with chestnut mousse, olive oil caketons and violet salt, my mom confesses, “I made you into a chocaholic”. She explains to the photographer, “I never let them eat any sweets.”
I thought I was “chocolated out,” but I have no problem here. The chestnut mousse is light and, well, chestnutty. And Mr. Ong has added a cherry foam for tartness. I love the caketons (which are to cake as croutons are to bread). I promise myself I’ll return soon to try his full tasting menu.
3:05 p.m.: We cab it to Sullivan Street for the final stop, Peanut Butter & Co. I can hardly bear to swallow their special Chocolate Week dish, a Chocolate Fluffernutter sandwich made with Dark Chocolate Dreams peanut butter and Marshmallow Fluff. Ever conscious of my health, I order mine on wheat bread.
The sandwich is sugary and sticky, thanks to the marshmallow. And I know that on a regular day, I would love it, but compared to the high-end fare I’ve had today, it just seems sickly sweet.
Besides, I’m craving salt at this point, so when my mom breaks open the side-serve bag of potato chips, I grab a handful, peel back a slice of bread and stuff them inside. Chip sandwich!
I guess when you’re going low-end, you have to go all the way. The chip sandwich is a throwback to my childhood and it seemed the perfect end to a day of choclatey excess, accompanied by my mother. As we leave, she turns to me and says, “I know we’ve been eating all these bits and pieces, but I feel kind of empty.” So, we go straight to a restaurant for a bowl of vegetable soup.