Chocolate and vanilla
Posted by kleeper December 02, 2008 00:05AM
TASTING PANEL: FOODday's tasting panel sampled (and sampled!) to bring you the best brands for your holiday baking
Navigate the dynamic landscape of baking chocolate
Mike Davis, The Oregonian
Buying chocolate for a showstopping dessert used to be as simple as grabbing a bag of chocolate chips. In the past 15 years, though, our tastes have changed and our options have grown; chocolates are darker, more intense, more nuanced and proudly assured of their individual flavor characteristics. Grocery store shelves offer a dizzying range of fair-trade, organic or single-origin chocolates from all over the world.
You can easily drop more than $20 just to make one batch of double-chocolate cookies. But if you're baking -- adding flour, eggs, sugar and perhaps copious amounts of butter -- do higher-priced chocolates really make a difference? To find out, FOODday tasted nine different bittersweet and semisweet chocolates in brownies and a simple chocolate sauce.
Recipes included with this story: Fudgy Brownies, Vanilla Sugar Cookies
Surprisingly, we had no runaway favorite; some tasters loved chocolates that others reviled. So we called chocolate expert Alice Medrich, who has written a number of cookbooks, notably "Bittersweet: Recipes and Tales From a Life in Chocolate."
"I think those results are good news. It tells a lot," she says. "We all have a different palate. ... So for people to have different reactions to the chocolates, it makes it clearer that chocolate is very diverse, and there isn't a right one."
Semisweet, bittersweet: What's the difference?
Still, it's important to use the right chocolate with the right recipe. The assumption used to be that bittersweet chocolate was darker and, well, more bitter than semisweet. But that's not the case now, since so many producers are offering chocolates that are lower in sugar and higher in chocolate liquor, which is sometimes referred to as the cacao percentage. For instance, a 70 percent cacao chocolate would have about 30 percent sugar (a fraction of a percentage could be trace amounts of vanilla and soy lecithin).
In the past few years, manufacturers have responded to increasingly chocolate-savvy consumers by promoting cacao percentages on labels. That's because cacao is chocolate's most expensive ingredient, so if there's a lot of cacao in there, they're going to want to boast about it.
Unbelievably, there's no official difference between bittersweet and semisweet chocolate. "The FDA defines them both the same," Medrich says. "The minimum, by law, is 35 percent chocolate liquor. That's way low. Nobody makes anything that low anymore."
"I'm trying to get people to get away from these terms 'bittersweet' and 'semisweet,' because they are so meaningless now." She adds that if an American chocolate that's labeled semisweet or bittersweet doesn't have a percentage on the label, you can assume it's 60 percent or less.
Too much cacao isn't a good thing
Beyond flavor, there's a big reason you should pay attention to the cacao percentage of a chocolate you plan to use in a recipe, Medrich says. "You can wreck a recipe by willy-nilly using a high-percentage chocolate in recipes which weren't designed for them. The cacao percentage has a huge impact on batters and ganaches, because it affects that way the chocolate will absorb liquid. You can make a beautiful ganache with a 55 percent cacao chocolate, but if you substitute a 70 percent, those dry cocoa solids in the 70 percent are going to suck up all the liquid and make your ganache or sauce look curdled. It's not that you can't make a good ganache with a 70 percent, but you'll have to change that recipe. The vast number of recipes out there really were not designed for chocolates above 60 or so percent cacao."
Recipes in which cacao percentage matters most are ganache, chocolate sauce and desserts that call for a significant amount of melted chocolate, such as dense tortes or brownies. Chocolate chunk cookies? Not so much.
Cacao percentage is all well and good when it's mentioned in a recipe that calls for semisweet or bittersweet chocolate, but oftentimes the percentage isn't specified -- especially in old favorite recipes. In such cases, "You could use around 60 percent cacao, but use 10 percent less of it," Medrich says. "And I think those old family recipes will be better if you work on them and adapt them to a better chocolate."
Finding your everyday "house" brand
The other reason to pay attention to chocolate is flavor; not all chocolates -- even ones that have the same cacao percentage -- taste the same. With a little foresight, you can easily know when to bring out the showstopping chocolate and when it's fine to stick to those 1-ounce squares wrapped in wax paper that your mom used.
Since it opened two years ago, the chocolate boutique Cacao in downtown Portland has seen the market for chocolates expand and shift. The store offers specialty bars and confections from all over the world, many of them made by small, artisan producers. "There are some new, emerging American chocolate makers, which is very exciting," says Aubrey Lindley, who runs Cacao with his partner, Jesse Manis.
And while mass-market manufacturers have been eager to jump on the bandwagon, a high percentage of cacao does not automatically mean high quality. "We're in a time right now where there's still some market confusion, and so a lot of changes have been just packaging changes and marketing changes," Lindley says, pointing to companies that are hyping dark chocolate for its purported health benefits.
In the mid-1990s, the landscape for chocolate changed, partly thanks to the founding of California's Scharffen Berger, which was the first bean-to-bar chocolate maker in America to emphasize the flavor characteristics of cacao beans. Companies both new and established followed suit and a chocolate revolution was born: Rather than simply considering the degree of darkness, consumers began asking, "Is this an estate chocolate?" and "Are these Porcelana beans?" They began thinking of eating chocolate as an experience in itself.
And that's where preference comes into play, since not everyone wants chocolate that is a specific expression of the region where it was produced or the artfulness with which the beans were fermented, roasted and blended. "A lot of people are looking for a mass-produced chocolate, and there's a reason for that," Lindley says. "It's got a broad appeal and it's going to have a very uniform, even, balanced taste."
If you want to use a more rare or unique (and thus more expensive) chocolate when baking, you want to do it strategically. "Where it makes the biggest difference would be the simplest, simplest recipe, like a chocolate sauce," Medrich says. "The more the recipe is loaded with fat, sugar and other flavors -- coffee, cinnamon, spice -- the more you'll lose some special characteristics." For example, a fruity chocolate with a pronounced berry flavor can overwhelm a torte made with dried cherries. Save your special chocolates for the recipes where they'll be the star player.
After experimenting with different chocolates, you'll likely find one with a flavor that suits you and the recipes you make most often, and this can be your go-to chocolate. Medrich likens it to having everyday "house" wines.
Good chocolate is not a life-or-death situation, but it can make a difference that you can taste. In her early days of working with American-made artisan chocolates, Medrich would offer brownies to students in her cooking classes. "I make a really simple brownie recipe with Baker's unsweetened chocolate and bring it to a class," she says, "and they would ooh and aah, because who doesn't love a brownie? And then I'd pass around the same brownie recipe made with Scharffen Berger (unsweetened chocolate), and there would be an audible silence for a moment, and then there'd be an 'ohhh ... now I get it.'
"What they didn't know wasn't hurting them. People like chocolate. And I don't think you can advocate using really expensive chocolate for everything you make, because what if you're cooking for the whole soccer team?"
The good news -- the great news, in fact -- is that even if a recipe does not turn out perfectly, very rarely will anything featuring chocolate be judged inedible by your friends, family and co-workers. The dozens of brownies leftover from our FOODday chocolate tasting, for instance, were devoured by the newsroom staff on election night, and we received no complaints that they were "metallic" or "tasted like bad Easter candy." Chocolate makes people happy, and with just a little patience, bravery and innovation, it can make you happier still.
We bravely taste-test chocolate (lots of it)
In brownies and a simple sauce, premium brands earned the best scores from panelists
Many of us have favorite chocolates for baking, but we wondered if we'd have any revelations if we tried them side by side in the same recipe. It was a long, messy slog that prompted more than a few bellyaches, but our brave tasting panel was up to the task.
We tasted only chocolates that came packaged in a baking format: blocks, discs and baking bars, rather than the tiny or thin bars that are more intended for eating out of hand.
Because the amount of sugar in chocolate can affect the texture and density of baked goods, we focused exclusively on semisweet and bittersweet chocolates. The USDA defines these as being a minimum 35 percent cacao. Otherwise, there are no official guidelines stating what makes bittersweet different from semisweet, and the cacao content can vary wildly from brand to brand.
We sampled the chocolates two ways: baked in brownies (to keep the chocolate flavor intact, we didn't add vanilla), and in an intense chocolate sauce, made with just cream and chocolate.
Though we were hoping to be surprised by a bargain, our favorite chocolates wound up being the premium brands, quite likely because they start with better raw ingredients. Our all-around least favorite was Trader Joe's Pound Plus Bittersweet -- disappointing those of us who seek out this Belgian chocolate for its wallet-friendly cost. Baker's Semi-Sweet was another middling scorer. Our favorite in both categories? Scharffen Berger 62 percent Semisweet Chocolate, though Valrhona, E. Guittard and El Rey made a decent showing all around.
The most enlightening aspect of our tasting was panelists' mixed reactions; some tasters loved specific chocolates, while other tasters scrunched their noses up after tasting the very same sample. What is "good" in chocolate isn't universal -- some chocolates are quite tart and fruity, while others are mellow and mild. In fact, the average scores of the chocolate sauces were mediocre across the board -- partially because in a sauce, there's nowhere for the imperfections of a chocolate to hide, but also because that's where our individual flavor preferences were the most apparent. Here are highlights of our reactions, good and bad.
How the Chocolate Ranks
Scores on scale of 1 to 5 (best)
Beth Nakamura, The Oregonian
IN BROWNIES
Scharffen Berger 62 percent Cacao Semisweet Chocolate
Average score: 3.7
"Winey aroma"; "deep, more intense as time passes"; "meaty but good flavor, berry-y"; "ruddy flavor, berry/cherry finish"; "bold, metallic aftertaste"; "balanced, long finish"; "sweet but not chocolaty"
Valrhona Grand Cru Manjari 64 percent
Average score: 3.4
"Toasty aroma"; "earthy aroma, vegetal funk (not in a bad way)"; "nice balance of toasty and acidic"; "salty, citrus finish, flat overall"; "mild, a little tang?"; "not distinct"
El Rey Mijao Dark Chocolate 61 percent Discos
Average score: 3.3
"Earthy and not overwhelmingly chocolaty aroma"; "soft, cocoa-ish flavor"; "blooms in the mouth -- wine, red berries, light citrus, long finish"; "sour aftertaste"; "chalky mouth feel"; "sweet like candy or Fudgesicle, not chocolaty"
E. Guittard 61 percent Cacao Semisweet Chocolate
Average score: 3
"Duncan Hines brownie mix aroma"; "good balance of sweet and chocolate"; "rich, mellow flavor"; "a little sprightly, some cherry, short finish"; "sweet, one note"; "not deep, no chocolate flavor"
IN CHOCOLATE SAUCE
Scharffen Berger 62 percent Cacao Semisweet Chocolate
Average score: 3.3
"Rich, bitter, smooth"; "chocolate, with nice bright fruit"; "roasty finish"; "a bit sharp but a better balance than the others"; " too fruity"; "eggy aroma"
E. Guittard 61 percent Cacao Semisweet Chocolate
Average score: 2.8
"Good balance of bright and mellow, spicy"; "slightly citrus"; "fruity"; "slightly sour, chocolate comes through at the end"; "mild but nice"; "harsh jam finish, metallic"; "like Hershey's syrup ... bitter finish"; "bitter, just shy of harsh"
Nestle Chocolatier 62 percent Cacao Bittersweet Chocolate
Average score: 2.3
"Malty flavor"; "cocoa cookie flavor"; "flat flavor"; "canned chocolate pudding flavor"; "not aromatic"
Ghirardelli 60 percent Cacao Bittersweet Chocolate Baking Bar
Average score: 2.3
"Rounded, nutty with little tang"; "fruity, smoke"; "metallic, cherry, lemon zest"; "smoky, coffee"; "not enough chocolate flavor"; "smashed ladybug flavor"
El Rey Mijao Dark Chocolate 61 percent Discos
Average score: 2.3
"Tangy but nice"; "vivid, bright, long finish, a little chalky at end"; "bad Easter candy -- plastic, tangy, sour"; "yuck"; "a little acidic for my taste"; "artificial flavor"; "canned taste"
Valrhona Grand Cru Manjari 64 percent (sold in bulk chunks at Whole Foods, made with vanilla)
Average score: 2.3
"Faint but coffee-ish aroma"; "earthy, chocolate pudding, citrus finish"; "chalky, sour, tangy"; "sour, bitter flavor"; "slightly ashy flavor"; "too acidic, fruit"
Dagoba Dark 59 percent Semisweet (bought in bulk chunks at New Seasons, made with no vanilla)
Average score: 2.3
"Bright, roasty"; "cherry, metal, citrus"; "sour, fishy"; "chalky finish"; "not as acidic as others"; "bad, almost chemical"; "herby flavor, like odd-flavored pudding"
Also tasted, but did not rank high enough: Baker's Semi-Sweet Baking Chocolate Squares (54 percent cacao), Trader Joe's Pound Plus Bittersweet (54 percent cacao)
A Chocolate Glossary
Beth Nakamura, The OregonianAll those high-end chocolates with percentages of cacoa can be bewildering. But, in general, it's smart to splurge on one when a recipe has only a few ingredients, such as ganache.
Cacao: Cacao can mean a variety of things; first and foremost, it's the type of tree that cocoa beans come from. Roasted cocoa beans are crushed to make what is known as cocoa mass, chocolate liquor or chocolate mass. This is the basis of all chocolate. To make dark chocolate, sugar is added to cocoa mass. When you see cacao percentage on a label, it refers to the percentage, by weight, of cocoa mass in the chocolate.
Bittersweet and semisweet chocolate: USDA Standards of Identity state that bittersweet and semisweet chocolate must contain a minimum of 35 percent cacao; there is no maximum. The common assumption is that semisweet chocolate has more sugar than bittersweet, but cacao percentage can vary wildly from brand to brand. Experiment a bit and then pick a few brands of chocolate you can count on to perform in your favorite recipes.
Unsweetened chocolate: Most grocery store brands of unsweetened chocolate are made to be used in recipes, and therefore have not gone through the extensive refining process known as conching. Conching is what makes a chocolate bar smooth on your palate, but it also helps deepen and mellow the flavor. It is becoming more common for artisan chocolate makers to make unsweetened, conched chocolate, both for baking and eating out of hand.
Milk chocolate: Milk chocolate must contain at least 12 percent milk solids and 10 percent cacao. A high-quality milk chocolate will list milk before sugar on its ingredients label; for baking, try to find a milk chocolate that's at least 35 percent cacao.
White chocolate: White chocolate contains cacao only in the form of cocoa butter; otherwise, it's just milk solids, sugar and vanilla. Always look for a white chocolate made with cocoa butter, not vegetable fats.
Compound chocolate: Sometimes known as chocolate coating or summer coating, this is chocolate that's had its cocoa butter replaced with other, cheaper fats -- probably hydrogenated vegetable oil, which would be listed in the label's ingredients. Chocolate coating has a waxy mouth feel and usually lots of sugar. We recommend it for ... well, nothing.
We take it for granted, but vanilla is no plain-Jane ingredient
Mike Davis, The Oregonian
"Plain vanilla." We apply the term to describe something boring or bland but in truth, vanilla is anything but. Yet we take the stuff for granted, robotically adding a teaspoon to just about everything with sugar in it. But while vanilla is commonplace in kitchen cabinets, its origins are exotic. The essence vanilla gives to food is powerful and subtle all at once. Plain? Hardly.
Vanilla beans come from a tropical orchid indigenous to Central America. Vanilla orchids bloom for only a few hours and must be pollinated by hand. Once the beans (which are actually seed pods) are ready to be harvested, they go through an extensive process of curing and drying before they offer what we know of as a "vanilla" flavor and aroma. It can take up to six years for vanilla to go from the vine to a bottle of vanilla extract.
"It's not so much about eating or drinking something with a lot of vanilla in it," says Patricia Rain, author of "Vanilla: The Cultural History of the World's Favorite Flavor and Fragrance" and the proprietress of The Vanilla.company. "It's about the aroma ... if you wear a vanilla fragrance, people are drawn to you." It's an attraction that starts early, in fact. A study found that vanilla in a mother's diet carries into her breast milk; on days when their mothers had consumed vanilla, babies nursed longer, but didn't necessarily consume more milk.
When used as an ingredient, though, Rain calls vanilla "a flavor lifter." A tiny amount simultaneously deepens and mellows a dish, and not just desserts -- shellfish, in particular, have an affinity for vanilla beans.
Vanilla is grown all over the world today, but not on vast plantations. "There is no vanilla grown commercially that is grown on big commercial farms. It just doesn't lend itself to being grown that way. And it's the most labor-intensive agricultural product in the world, which is why it's relatively expensive," Rain says. "But we don't use that much vanilla in anything we make, so it's really not that expensive. My feeling is, if you're going to go through the trouble to bake something, you want to use the best possible ingredients."
If you've ever made a yellow cake and forgotten to add the vanilla, you know there's something missing -- think of the aroma of something with vanilla baking, and how that smell carries all over the house. Vanilla transforms that bland to extraordinary, and all it takes is a splash.
Are all vanilla extracts the same? Tastes like it
After trying artificial and pure vanilla in cookies, we couldn't tell the difference
Sure, they may sound like fun, but our FOODday tasting panels are no laughing matter. There's an air of quiet concentration as tasters scrutinize what, exactly, is the flavor they're getting from that bite of canned tomato or petite spoonful of sauce. It's a tough crowd, too, one that's not above spitting something deemed particularly nasty into the trash.
So it was frankly a shock when, after painstakingly assembling a tasting of six vanilla extracts, we could barely find any difference between the samples.
You can't say we hadn't been warned -- Cook's Illustrated magazine infamously conducted a tasting of vanilla extracts a number of years ago, and the tasters couldn't detect the difference between pure vanilla extract and the fake stuff. In 2005, they repeated the test and got the same results.
But it's hard to believe unless you experience it firsthand, and that curiosity drove us to make six batches of vanilla-laced sugar cookies and flavor six cups of creme anglaise with six extracts, all of them readily available at chain grocery stores. So similar were they that our tasters stopped filling out tasting sheets halfway through -- it seemed pointless, especially with the cookies, which all tasted like clones of the same batch.
That said, some tasters did perceive a "more vanilla than vanilla" edge to the creme anglaise made with imitation vanilla extract, slightly reminiscent of mass-market vanilla ice cream (which is often flavored with imitation vanilla).
The extracts did have different aromas, however, which were most perceptible at the time they were added to the cookie dough or creme anglaise. Some were brighter, more floral, while others were warmer, cozier and more "classic vanilla." Once added to the other ingredients, this wafting fragrance faded away.
So what does this mean? If you're looking to shave a few bucks off your annual baking budget, go ahead and get the super-cheap fake stuff. But some of us will happily go on buying our favorite premium brands. Though expensive, you don't use that much, and pure vanilla supports Third World independent farmers.
Plus there's something immensely satisfying in that moment of baking when you unscrew the cap off the glass bottle, measure out a teaspoon of that potent brown elixir and release its ephemeral perfume. It's a small splurge I'm willing to make.
The vanillas
McCormick Pure Vanilla Extract (about $5.38/2 ounces)
Cook's Pure Vanilla Extract (about $6.50/4 ounces)
Spice Islands 100% Pure Bourbon Vanilla Extract (about $4.99/1 ounce)
Nielsen-Massey Madagascar Bourbon Pure Vanilla (about $9.99/4 ounces)
Simply Organic Vanilla Extract (about $5.99/2 ounces)
Imitation vanilla (prices range from about $1.09/8 ounces to $3.99/4 ounces, depending on the brand)
A vanilla primer
Beth Nakamura, The OregonianVanilla comes in many forms: beans (clockwise from left), vanilla sugar, bean, paste and extract. Surprisingly, our tasting panel detected little or no differences in their flavor after cooking.
Whole vanilla beans: The cured and dried seed pod of a tropical climbing orchid.
Bourbon vanilla: Named for a group of islands, including Madagascar and several smaller surrounding islands, once called the Bourbon Islands.
Madagascar vanilla: The island nation of Madagascar produces the majority of the world's vanilla.
Tahitian vanilla: Originally from Mexican vanilla stock, but sometime during the last century it mutated and is now its own species. Tahitian beans are plumper, contain fewer seeds and have a pronounced floral aroma. They go particularly well with fruit.
Mexican vanilla: Mexico is the home of vanilla, and the producer of some of the world's finest and rarest vanilla beans. Americans tend to be wary of Mexican vanilla extract because it has been known to contain coumarin, a less-expensive flavor and aroma enhancer that can be toxic. A good rule of thumb: If Mexican vanilla extract is very cheap, it's probably not pure vanilla.
Pure vanilla extract: Made by macerating chopped vanilla beans in water and alcohol. The blend of beans, exact method of extraction and concentration of actual vanilla can vary from producer to producer. The FDA requires a minimum of 13.35 ounces of vanilla beans per gallon of liquid containing a minimum of 35 percent alcohol to 65 percent water.
Imitation vanilla extract: Made with vanillin, a synthetic flavoring from byproducts of papermaking or derived from coal tar. Real vanilla contains more than 250 organic components that contribute to its flavor; artificial vanilla has just one, vanillin. Since we couldn't detect the artificial vanilla among the pure vanillas extracts in our tasting, we're not so sure what those other 249-odd compounds do.
Vanilla powder: Made by spraying vanilla on sucrose or dextrose; handy for sprinkling on fancy warm beverages and adding to dry cake and cookie mixes.
Vanilla bean paste: A gooey, dark brown, transparent paste made from vanilla beans, vanilla extract, water and gum tragacanth. An economical and convenient substitute for whole vanilla beans in recipes.
Whole ground vanilla beans: Just that: Vanilla beans ground into a fine powder. Since the bean pod -- which is often discarded -- is quite flavorful, whole ground vanilla beans are a splendid addition to custards, sauces and fillings.
Whole beans vs. paste
Pastry chefs know whole vanilla beans offer more complexity than vanilla extract, and since beans are not cheap, it's a good idea to ration them for a recipe where their flavor will really come through, such as custards, sauces or poached fruits.
But we've seen vanilla bean paste in the grocery stores, and we wondered about it. Nielsen-Massey offers a 4-ounce jar that retails for about $10. It's made from water, vanilla beans and gum tragacanth, a gooey gel derived from a shrub.
We made a creme anglaise flavored with a whole vanilla bean and one with the paste. Both had that rich, soothing, inimitable vanilla-bean scent. The main difference was in appearance. The sauce made with the whole bean had some larger flecks that came off when the inside of the split bean was scraped; the sauce made with paste only had tiny pinpoint vanilla beans seeds.
My conclusion? Vanilla bean paste offers flavor and convenience at a great price -- one jar is equivalent to at least eight beans. Whole vanilla beans are still wonderful for all of the uses you can get from them, though. A spent vanilla bean pod can be dried and inserted into a canister of sugar to perfume it, and you can even toss one into your next batch of mulled wine or mulled cider to help smooth its flavor out.
Categories: Best of FOODday, Living Top Stories, Tasting Panel
http://www.oregonlive.com/foodday/index.ssf/2008/12/chocolate_and_vanilla.html
Posted by kleeper December 02, 2008 00:05AM
TASTING PANEL: FOODday's tasting panel sampled (and sampled!) to bring you the best brands for your holiday baking
Navigate the dynamic landscape of baking chocolate
Mike Davis, The Oregonian
Buying chocolate for a showstopping dessert used to be as simple as grabbing a bag of chocolate chips. In the past 15 years, though, our tastes have changed and our options have grown; chocolates are darker, more intense, more nuanced and proudly assured of their individual flavor characteristics. Grocery store shelves offer a dizzying range of fair-trade, organic or single-origin chocolates from all over the world.
You can easily drop more than $20 just to make one batch of double-chocolate cookies. But if you're baking -- adding flour, eggs, sugar and perhaps copious amounts of butter -- do higher-priced chocolates really make a difference? To find out, FOODday tasted nine different bittersweet and semisweet chocolates in brownies and a simple chocolate sauce.
Recipes included with this story: Fudgy Brownies, Vanilla Sugar Cookies
Surprisingly, we had no runaway favorite; some tasters loved chocolates that others reviled. So we called chocolate expert Alice Medrich, who has written a number of cookbooks, notably "Bittersweet: Recipes and Tales From a Life in Chocolate."
"I think those results are good news. It tells a lot," she says. "We all have a different palate. ... So for people to have different reactions to the chocolates, it makes it clearer that chocolate is very diverse, and there isn't a right one."
Semisweet, bittersweet: What's the difference?
Still, it's important to use the right chocolate with the right recipe. The assumption used to be that bittersweet chocolate was darker and, well, more bitter than semisweet. But that's not the case now, since so many producers are offering chocolates that are lower in sugar and higher in chocolate liquor, which is sometimes referred to as the cacao percentage. For instance, a 70 percent cacao chocolate would have about 30 percent sugar (a fraction of a percentage could be trace amounts of vanilla and soy lecithin).
In the past few years, manufacturers have responded to increasingly chocolate-savvy consumers by promoting cacao percentages on labels. That's because cacao is chocolate's most expensive ingredient, so if there's a lot of cacao in there, they're going to want to boast about it.
Unbelievably, there's no official difference between bittersweet and semisweet chocolate. "The FDA defines them both the same," Medrich says. "The minimum, by law, is 35 percent chocolate liquor. That's way low. Nobody makes anything that low anymore."
"I'm trying to get people to get away from these terms 'bittersweet' and 'semisweet,' because they are so meaningless now." She adds that if an American chocolate that's labeled semisweet or bittersweet doesn't have a percentage on the label, you can assume it's 60 percent or less.
Too much cacao isn't a good thing
Beyond flavor, there's a big reason you should pay attention to the cacao percentage of a chocolate you plan to use in a recipe, Medrich says. "You can wreck a recipe by willy-nilly using a high-percentage chocolate in recipes which weren't designed for them. The cacao percentage has a huge impact on batters and ganaches, because it affects that way the chocolate will absorb liquid. You can make a beautiful ganache with a 55 percent cacao chocolate, but if you substitute a 70 percent, those dry cocoa solids in the 70 percent are going to suck up all the liquid and make your ganache or sauce look curdled. It's not that you can't make a good ganache with a 70 percent, but you'll have to change that recipe. The vast number of recipes out there really were not designed for chocolates above 60 or so percent cacao."
Recipes in which cacao percentage matters most are ganache, chocolate sauce and desserts that call for a significant amount of melted chocolate, such as dense tortes or brownies. Chocolate chunk cookies? Not so much.
Cacao percentage is all well and good when it's mentioned in a recipe that calls for semisweet or bittersweet chocolate, but oftentimes the percentage isn't specified -- especially in old favorite recipes. In such cases, "You could use around 60 percent cacao, but use 10 percent less of it," Medrich says. "And I think those old family recipes will be better if you work on them and adapt them to a better chocolate."
Finding your everyday "house" brand
The other reason to pay attention to chocolate is flavor; not all chocolates -- even ones that have the same cacao percentage -- taste the same. With a little foresight, you can easily know when to bring out the showstopping chocolate and when it's fine to stick to those 1-ounce squares wrapped in wax paper that your mom used.
Since it opened two years ago, the chocolate boutique Cacao in downtown Portland has seen the market for chocolates expand and shift. The store offers specialty bars and confections from all over the world, many of them made by small, artisan producers. "There are some new, emerging American chocolate makers, which is very exciting," says Aubrey Lindley, who runs Cacao with his partner, Jesse Manis.
And while mass-market manufacturers have been eager to jump on the bandwagon, a high percentage of cacao does not automatically mean high quality. "We're in a time right now where there's still some market confusion, and so a lot of changes have been just packaging changes and marketing changes," Lindley says, pointing to companies that are hyping dark chocolate for its purported health benefits.
In the mid-1990s, the landscape for chocolate changed, partly thanks to the founding of California's Scharffen Berger, which was the first bean-to-bar chocolate maker in America to emphasize the flavor characteristics of cacao beans. Companies both new and established followed suit and a chocolate revolution was born: Rather than simply considering the degree of darkness, consumers began asking, "Is this an estate chocolate?" and "Are these Porcelana beans?" They began thinking of eating chocolate as an experience in itself.
And that's where preference comes into play, since not everyone wants chocolate that is a specific expression of the region where it was produced or the artfulness with which the beans were fermented, roasted and blended. "A lot of people are looking for a mass-produced chocolate, and there's a reason for that," Lindley says. "It's got a broad appeal and it's going to have a very uniform, even, balanced taste."
If you want to use a more rare or unique (and thus more expensive) chocolate when baking, you want to do it strategically. "Where it makes the biggest difference would be the simplest, simplest recipe, like a chocolate sauce," Medrich says. "The more the recipe is loaded with fat, sugar and other flavors -- coffee, cinnamon, spice -- the more you'll lose some special characteristics." For example, a fruity chocolate with a pronounced berry flavor can overwhelm a torte made with dried cherries. Save your special chocolates for the recipes where they'll be the star player.
After experimenting with different chocolates, you'll likely find one with a flavor that suits you and the recipes you make most often, and this can be your go-to chocolate. Medrich likens it to having everyday "house" wines.
Good chocolate is not a life-or-death situation, but it can make a difference that you can taste. In her early days of working with American-made artisan chocolates, Medrich would offer brownies to students in her cooking classes. "I make a really simple brownie recipe with Baker's unsweetened chocolate and bring it to a class," she says, "and they would ooh and aah, because who doesn't love a brownie? And then I'd pass around the same brownie recipe made with Scharffen Berger (unsweetened chocolate), and there would be an audible silence for a moment, and then there'd be an 'ohhh ... now I get it.'
"What they didn't know wasn't hurting them. People like chocolate. And I don't think you can advocate using really expensive chocolate for everything you make, because what if you're cooking for the whole soccer team?"
The good news -- the great news, in fact -- is that even if a recipe does not turn out perfectly, very rarely will anything featuring chocolate be judged inedible by your friends, family and co-workers. The dozens of brownies leftover from our FOODday chocolate tasting, for instance, were devoured by the newsroom staff on election night, and we received no complaints that they were "metallic" or "tasted like bad Easter candy." Chocolate makes people happy, and with just a little patience, bravery and innovation, it can make you happier still.
We bravely taste-test chocolate (lots of it)
In brownies and a simple sauce, premium brands earned the best scores from panelists
Many of us have favorite chocolates for baking, but we wondered if we'd have any revelations if we tried them side by side in the same recipe. It was a long, messy slog that prompted more than a few bellyaches, but our brave tasting panel was up to the task.
We tasted only chocolates that came packaged in a baking format: blocks, discs and baking bars, rather than the tiny or thin bars that are more intended for eating out of hand.
Because the amount of sugar in chocolate can affect the texture and density of baked goods, we focused exclusively on semisweet and bittersweet chocolates. The USDA defines these as being a minimum 35 percent cacao. Otherwise, there are no official guidelines stating what makes bittersweet different from semisweet, and the cacao content can vary wildly from brand to brand.
We sampled the chocolates two ways: baked in brownies (to keep the chocolate flavor intact, we didn't add vanilla), and in an intense chocolate sauce, made with just cream and chocolate.
Though we were hoping to be surprised by a bargain, our favorite chocolates wound up being the premium brands, quite likely because they start with better raw ingredients. Our all-around least favorite was Trader Joe's Pound Plus Bittersweet -- disappointing those of us who seek out this Belgian chocolate for its wallet-friendly cost. Baker's Semi-Sweet was another middling scorer. Our favorite in both categories? Scharffen Berger 62 percent Semisweet Chocolate, though Valrhona, E. Guittard and El Rey made a decent showing all around.
The most enlightening aspect of our tasting was panelists' mixed reactions; some tasters loved specific chocolates, while other tasters scrunched their noses up after tasting the very same sample. What is "good" in chocolate isn't universal -- some chocolates are quite tart and fruity, while others are mellow and mild. In fact, the average scores of the chocolate sauces were mediocre across the board -- partially because in a sauce, there's nowhere for the imperfections of a chocolate to hide, but also because that's where our individual flavor preferences were the most apparent. Here are highlights of our reactions, good and bad.
How the Chocolate Ranks
Scores on scale of 1 to 5 (best)
Beth Nakamura, The Oregonian
IN BROWNIES
Scharffen Berger 62 percent Cacao Semisweet Chocolate
Average score: 3.7
"Winey aroma"; "deep, more intense as time passes"; "meaty but good flavor, berry-y"; "ruddy flavor, berry/cherry finish"; "bold, metallic aftertaste"; "balanced, long finish"; "sweet but not chocolaty"
Valrhona Grand Cru Manjari 64 percent
Average score: 3.4
"Toasty aroma"; "earthy aroma, vegetal funk (not in a bad way)"; "nice balance of toasty and acidic"; "salty, citrus finish, flat overall"; "mild, a little tang?"; "not distinct"
El Rey Mijao Dark Chocolate 61 percent Discos
Average score: 3.3
"Earthy and not overwhelmingly chocolaty aroma"; "soft, cocoa-ish flavor"; "blooms in the mouth -- wine, red berries, light citrus, long finish"; "sour aftertaste"; "chalky mouth feel"; "sweet like candy or Fudgesicle, not chocolaty"
E. Guittard 61 percent Cacao Semisweet Chocolate
Average score: 3
"Duncan Hines brownie mix aroma"; "good balance of sweet and chocolate"; "rich, mellow flavor"; "a little sprightly, some cherry, short finish"; "sweet, one note"; "not deep, no chocolate flavor"
IN CHOCOLATE SAUCE
Scharffen Berger 62 percent Cacao Semisweet Chocolate
Average score: 3.3
"Rich, bitter, smooth"; "chocolate, with nice bright fruit"; "roasty finish"; "a bit sharp but a better balance than the others"; " too fruity"; "eggy aroma"
E. Guittard 61 percent Cacao Semisweet Chocolate
Average score: 2.8
"Good balance of bright and mellow, spicy"; "slightly citrus"; "fruity"; "slightly sour, chocolate comes through at the end"; "mild but nice"; "harsh jam finish, metallic"; "like Hershey's syrup ... bitter finish"; "bitter, just shy of harsh"
Nestle Chocolatier 62 percent Cacao Bittersweet Chocolate
Average score: 2.3
"Malty flavor"; "cocoa cookie flavor"; "flat flavor"; "canned chocolate pudding flavor"; "not aromatic"
Ghirardelli 60 percent Cacao Bittersweet Chocolate Baking Bar
Average score: 2.3
"Rounded, nutty with little tang"; "fruity, smoke"; "metallic, cherry, lemon zest"; "smoky, coffee"; "not enough chocolate flavor"; "smashed ladybug flavor"
El Rey Mijao Dark Chocolate 61 percent Discos
Average score: 2.3
"Tangy but nice"; "vivid, bright, long finish, a little chalky at end"; "bad Easter candy -- plastic, tangy, sour"; "yuck"; "a little acidic for my taste"; "artificial flavor"; "canned taste"
Valrhona Grand Cru Manjari 64 percent (sold in bulk chunks at Whole Foods, made with vanilla)
Average score: 2.3
"Faint but coffee-ish aroma"; "earthy, chocolate pudding, citrus finish"; "chalky, sour, tangy"; "sour, bitter flavor"; "slightly ashy flavor"; "too acidic, fruit"
Dagoba Dark 59 percent Semisweet (bought in bulk chunks at New Seasons, made with no vanilla)
Average score: 2.3
"Bright, roasty"; "cherry, metal, citrus"; "sour, fishy"; "chalky finish"; "not as acidic as others"; "bad, almost chemical"; "herby flavor, like odd-flavored pudding"
Also tasted, but did not rank high enough: Baker's Semi-Sweet Baking Chocolate Squares (54 percent cacao), Trader Joe's Pound Plus Bittersweet (54 percent cacao)
A Chocolate Glossary
Beth Nakamura, The OregonianAll those high-end chocolates with percentages of cacoa can be bewildering. But, in general, it's smart to splurge on one when a recipe has only a few ingredients, such as ganache.
Cacao: Cacao can mean a variety of things; first and foremost, it's the type of tree that cocoa beans come from. Roasted cocoa beans are crushed to make what is known as cocoa mass, chocolate liquor or chocolate mass. This is the basis of all chocolate. To make dark chocolate, sugar is added to cocoa mass. When you see cacao percentage on a label, it refers to the percentage, by weight, of cocoa mass in the chocolate.
Bittersweet and semisweet chocolate: USDA Standards of Identity state that bittersweet and semisweet chocolate must contain a minimum of 35 percent cacao; there is no maximum. The common assumption is that semisweet chocolate has more sugar than bittersweet, but cacao percentage can vary wildly from brand to brand. Experiment a bit and then pick a few brands of chocolate you can count on to perform in your favorite recipes.
Unsweetened chocolate: Most grocery store brands of unsweetened chocolate are made to be used in recipes, and therefore have not gone through the extensive refining process known as conching. Conching is what makes a chocolate bar smooth on your palate, but it also helps deepen and mellow the flavor. It is becoming more common for artisan chocolate makers to make unsweetened, conched chocolate, both for baking and eating out of hand.
Milk chocolate: Milk chocolate must contain at least 12 percent milk solids and 10 percent cacao. A high-quality milk chocolate will list milk before sugar on its ingredients label; for baking, try to find a milk chocolate that's at least 35 percent cacao.
White chocolate: White chocolate contains cacao only in the form of cocoa butter; otherwise, it's just milk solids, sugar and vanilla. Always look for a white chocolate made with cocoa butter, not vegetable fats.
Compound chocolate: Sometimes known as chocolate coating or summer coating, this is chocolate that's had its cocoa butter replaced with other, cheaper fats -- probably hydrogenated vegetable oil, which would be listed in the label's ingredients. Chocolate coating has a waxy mouth feel and usually lots of sugar. We recommend it for ... well, nothing.
We take it for granted, but vanilla is no plain-Jane ingredient
Mike Davis, The Oregonian
"Plain vanilla." We apply the term to describe something boring or bland but in truth, vanilla is anything but. Yet we take the stuff for granted, robotically adding a teaspoon to just about everything with sugar in it. But while vanilla is commonplace in kitchen cabinets, its origins are exotic. The essence vanilla gives to food is powerful and subtle all at once. Plain? Hardly.
Vanilla beans come from a tropical orchid indigenous to Central America. Vanilla orchids bloom for only a few hours and must be pollinated by hand. Once the beans (which are actually seed pods) are ready to be harvested, they go through an extensive process of curing and drying before they offer what we know of as a "vanilla" flavor and aroma. It can take up to six years for vanilla to go from the vine to a bottle of vanilla extract.
"It's not so much about eating or drinking something with a lot of vanilla in it," says Patricia Rain, author of "Vanilla: The Cultural History of the World's Favorite Flavor and Fragrance" and the proprietress of The Vanilla.company. "It's about the aroma ... if you wear a vanilla fragrance, people are drawn to you." It's an attraction that starts early, in fact. A study found that vanilla in a mother's diet carries into her breast milk; on days when their mothers had consumed vanilla, babies nursed longer, but didn't necessarily consume more milk.
When used as an ingredient, though, Rain calls vanilla "a flavor lifter." A tiny amount simultaneously deepens and mellows a dish, and not just desserts -- shellfish, in particular, have an affinity for vanilla beans.
Vanilla is grown all over the world today, but not on vast plantations. "There is no vanilla grown commercially that is grown on big commercial farms. It just doesn't lend itself to being grown that way. And it's the most labor-intensive agricultural product in the world, which is why it's relatively expensive," Rain says. "But we don't use that much vanilla in anything we make, so it's really not that expensive. My feeling is, if you're going to go through the trouble to bake something, you want to use the best possible ingredients."
If you've ever made a yellow cake and forgotten to add the vanilla, you know there's something missing -- think of the aroma of something with vanilla baking, and how that smell carries all over the house. Vanilla transforms that bland to extraordinary, and all it takes is a splash.
Are all vanilla extracts the same? Tastes like it
After trying artificial and pure vanilla in cookies, we couldn't tell the difference
Sure, they may sound like fun, but our FOODday tasting panels are no laughing matter. There's an air of quiet concentration as tasters scrutinize what, exactly, is the flavor they're getting from that bite of canned tomato or petite spoonful of sauce. It's a tough crowd, too, one that's not above spitting something deemed particularly nasty into the trash.
So it was frankly a shock when, after painstakingly assembling a tasting of six vanilla extracts, we could barely find any difference between the samples.
You can't say we hadn't been warned -- Cook's Illustrated magazine infamously conducted a tasting of vanilla extracts a number of years ago, and the tasters couldn't detect the difference between pure vanilla extract and the fake stuff. In 2005, they repeated the test and got the same results.
But it's hard to believe unless you experience it firsthand, and that curiosity drove us to make six batches of vanilla-laced sugar cookies and flavor six cups of creme anglaise with six extracts, all of them readily available at chain grocery stores. So similar were they that our tasters stopped filling out tasting sheets halfway through -- it seemed pointless, especially with the cookies, which all tasted like clones of the same batch.
That said, some tasters did perceive a "more vanilla than vanilla" edge to the creme anglaise made with imitation vanilla extract, slightly reminiscent of mass-market vanilla ice cream (which is often flavored with imitation vanilla).
The extracts did have different aromas, however, which were most perceptible at the time they were added to the cookie dough or creme anglaise. Some were brighter, more floral, while others were warmer, cozier and more "classic vanilla." Once added to the other ingredients, this wafting fragrance faded away.
So what does this mean? If you're looking to shave a few bucks off your annual baking budget, go ahead and get the super-cheap fake stuff. But some of us will happily go on buying our favorite premium brands. Though expensive, you don't use that much, and pure vanilla supports Third World independent farmers.
Plus there's something immensely satisfying in that moment of baking when you unscrew the cap off the glass bottle, measure out a teaspoon of that potent brown elixir and release its ephemeral perfume. It's a small splurge I'm willing to make.
The vanillas
McCormick Pure Vanilla Extract (about $5.38/2 ounces)
Cook's Pure Vanilla Extract (about $6.50/4 ounces)
Spice Islands 100% Pure Bourbon Vanilla Extract (about $4.99/1 ounce)
Nielsen-Massey Madagascar Bourbon Pure Vanilla (about $9.99/4 ounces)
Simply Organic Vanilla Extract (about $5.99/2 ounces)
Imitation vanilla (prices range from about $1.09/8 ounces to $3.99/4 ounces, depending on the brand)
A vanilla primer
Beth Nakamura, The OregonianVanilla comes in many forms: beans (clockwise from left), vanilla sugar, bean, paste and extract. Surprisingly, our tasting panel detected little or no differences in their flavor after cooking.
Whole vanilla beans: The cured and dried seed pod of a tropical climbing orchid.
Bourbon vanilla: Named for a group of islands, including Madagascar and several smaller surrounding islands, once called the Bourbon Islands.
Madagascar vanilla: The island nation of Madagascar produces the majority of the world's vanilla.
Tahitian vanilla: Originally from Mexican vanilla stock, but sometime during the last century it mutated and is now its own species. Tahitian beans are plumper, contain fewer seeds and have a pronounced floral aroma. They go particularly well with fruit.
Mexican vanilla: Mexico is the home of vanilla, and the producer of some of the world's finest and rarest vanilla beans. Americans tend to be wary of Mexican vanilla extract because it has been known to contain coumarin, a less-expensive flavor and aroma enhancer that can be toxic. A good rule of thumb: If Mexican vanilla extract is very cheap, it's probably not pure vanilla.
Pure vanilla extract: Made by macerating chopped vanilla beans in water and alcohol. The blend of beans, exact method of extraction and concentration of actual vanilla can vary from producer to producer. The FDA requires a minimum of 13.35 ounces of vanilla beans per gallon of liquid containing a minimum of 35 percent alcohol to 65 percent water.
Imitation vanilla extract: Made with vanillin, a synthetic flavoring from byproducts of papermaking or derived from coal tar. Real vanilla contains more than 250 organic components that contribute to its flavor; artificial vanilla has just one, vanillin. Since we couldn't detect the artificial vanilla among the pure vanillas extracts in our tasting, we're not so sure what those other 249-odd compounds do.
Vanilla powder: Made by spraying vanilla on sucrose or dextrose; handy for sprinkling on fancy warm beverages and adding to dry cake and cookie mixes.
Vanilla bean paste: A gooey, dark brown, transparent paste made from vanilla beans, vanilla extract, water and gum tragacanth. An economical and convenient substitute for whole vanilla beans in recipes.
Whole ground vanilla beans: Just that: Vanilla beans ground into a fine powder. Since the bean pod -- which is often discarded -- is quite flavorful, whole ground vanilla beans are a splendid addition to custards, sauces and fillings.
Whole beans vs. paste
Pastry chefs know whole vanilla beans offer more complexity than vanilla extract, and since beans are not cheap, it's a good idea to ration them for a recipe where their flavor will really come through, such as custards, sauces or poached fruits.
But we've seen vanilla bean paste in the grocery stores, and we wondered about it. Nielsen-Massey offers a 4-ounce jar that retails for about $10. It's made from water, vanilla beans and gum tragacanth, a gooey gel derived from a shrub.
We made a creme anglaise flavored with a whole vanilla bean and one with the paste. Both had that rich, soothing, inimitable vanilla-bean scent. The main difference was in appearance. The sauce made with the whole bean had some larger flecks that came off when the inside of the split bean was scraped; the sauce made with paste only had tiny pinpoint vanilla beans seeds.
My conclusion? Vanilla bean paste offers flavor and convenience at a great price -- one jar is equivalent to at least eight beans. Whole vanilla beans are still wonderful for all of the uses you can get from them, though. A spent vanilla bean pod can be dried and inserted into a canister of sugar to perfume it, and you can even toss one into your next batch of mulled wine or mulled cider to help smooth its flavor out.
Categories: Best of FOODday, Living Top Stories, Tasting Panel
http://www.oregonlive.com/foodday/index.ssf/2008/12/chocolate_and_vanilla.html
