My “friend” Otto has threatened to drop his bookmark for me if I don’t post EACH and EVERY day. (To which I have to say: Stones, glass houses: look into it, Otto.) I’ve been trying to work up the energy to work on a political posting, but when you’ve got this dangerously out-of-touch President and a nominee for Attorney General who condones not only torture but the inherent authority of the President to set aside laws and a populace who doesn’t care and perhaps even cheers on torture and a military that’s been destroyed for a decade (maybe more) and an out-of-control budget and an out-and-out LIE designed to destroy one of the government programs that actually WORKS…

…talking about cooking seems so much nicer.

Anyhow. The first time I ever had knock-my-socks off hot chocolate was at the same place everyone has it: Cafe Angelina, in the Rue de Rivoli, Paris. I couldn’t finish the bowl of chocolate, that’s how rich and delicious it was.

When Darin, baby Sophia, and I were in Denmark, I had a remarkable experience at La Glace Conditori on Skoubogade—extremely delicious, thick, and chocolatey chocolate (with an accompanying pile of thick whipped cream). With free refills! What’s up with that? And why the hell didn’t I write down how much I paid for it?

Once, at Tamar and Dan’s, I brought a bag of Spanish chocolate drink mix that was so amazingly rich and thick. We kept adding milk to try to cut it a little, but it was still like rich chocolate pudding. I haven’t had the nerve to try it again, but I do have a bag of the stuff in my pantry mocking me.

And most recently, while I have mostly written off Starbucks as the Evil Empire of Inferior Coffee, preferring to patronize local establishments (“Oh yes, you have such a nice little cafe here”), during Wintertime Starbucks has the Gingerbread Latte, which I find to be absolutely yummy. Well, I did find it to be yummy; I have since burnt out on it. Where was I? Oh yes. While I was in Starbucks, getting my Gingerbread Latte, I noticed their ubiquitous signs for their new Chantico Drinking Chocolate. I did not try it. I think that was my final Gingerbread one too.

Then I come home to see that the Cracked Cauldron folks are taunting me with their own hot chocolate.

For some reason, this inspired me to Google “how to make thick hot chocolate” to get some recipes and try them out. (That, and the fact that the CC guys won’t give me their recipe. Sniff.) I came up with a whole bunch of different ones, which I plan on making to see if I can generate what I think is the perfect cup of hot chocolate. This might be a running feature on NKA. Or maybe I’ll die of clogged arteries.

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Amongst the things I learned whilst Googling around: there are pretty much three basic chocolate drinks:

1. hot cocoa: a thin, milky (or even watery!) drink flavored with cocoa powder. This is the drink most of us Americans have usually had.
2. hot chocolate: this is what I want. Quality chocolate plus milk and possibly one or two other ingredients, such as cornstarch or maybe an egg (for thickening).
3. drinking chocolate: this is pretty much melted chocolate in a cup. Quality chocolate plus cornstarch plus hot water. Maybe a spice like cinnamon or nutmeg. Drink.

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The first recipe I decided to try was Greg Baker’s. I don’t know who Greg was; he had a recipe that seemed doable.

Makes one large serving.

• 1 1/4 C milk
• 2 tsp cornstarch
• 1 1/2 tbsp sugar
• pinch kosher salt
• 1 oz semisweet or bittersweet chocolate
• 1/2 tsp vanilla
• 1 tbsp dark rum
• splash cream (optional, decrease quantity of milk)

Put the milk and cornstarch in a sauce pan. Whisk to disolve the cornstarch. Add the sugar and salt and whisk.

Bring this nearly to a boil and add the chocolate. Whisk to melt and disolve the chocolate. Remove from heat and add the vanilla and rum. Serve.

Notes

Most recipes say you need to finely chop the chocolate–that’s superstitious crap. Save yourself the trouble of washing a knife and cutting board. If your milk mixture is near the boil, it will quickly melt the average ounce square of chocolate. Just keep whisking so it doesn’t stick to the bottom.

The cornstarch is important. It does thicken the drink slightly (which I like) but it’s more than that. Starch is an emulsifier. It keeps the cocoa butter (which is a fat) from separating and rising, causing a dark skin on top. With the quantity given here, it will still form a slight skin as it cools, but more makes it too thick.

Adding some cream makes a creamier hot chocolate, but the thickness created by the cornstarch does the same thing, without adding fat. I don’t usually add cream unless I have some sitting in the fridge waiting to spoil.

Don’t add too much rum or you’ll kill the taste of the chocolate. If you want to have a drink, just have a drink; don’t screw up your hot chocolate in the process.

I made this yesterday with Valrhona 71% chocolate—without the vanilla, rum, or cream—and while it came out pleasantly thick, it was also way too sweet. So I made it again today (it’s been hot chocolate week around here) without any sugar at all. Much better, at least for my taste buds.

So, currently, my recipe is:

• 1 1/4 C milk
• 2 tsp cornstarch
• pinch kosher salt
• 1 oz semisweet or bittersweet chocolate

If I make this again, I might add a little sugar in, because there is the sour aftertaste of the bittersweet chocolate, but not much. I might also try it with a little less cornstarch, to see what the optimal amount is.

Mind you, after you drink this, you don’t need to eat for a while.

If you have any pointers to important hot chocolate recipes I need to try, let me know!

Update: Well, since it is that time of the year when the weather makes you just wanna huddle down and drink hot chocolate all the time (yes, even in California), it seems like I’m finding new recipes left and right. This recipe sounds delish, especially as author Stephanie Zonis also expounds cogently on the differences between drinking chocolate, hot chocolate, and hot cocoa. This is a woman who knows what I want and how best I can achieve it!

Except now I have to try all these drinking chocolate products that are coming out… work, work, work.

I went sort of nuts today. I don’t know why. I had to come up with what we were going to have for dinner tonight and I decided on rice and mushrooms cooked in chicken broth first. Then I decided to use half the bunch of broccoli I got in the CSA box, and finally I decided I would step out of my comfort range and make pork for dinner. I’m fairly comfortable cooking chicken and fish, but I generally leave the meats to Darin. But no more! I am cook; hear me roar.

Then I really stepped outside the box and decided to make a dessert too.

I read On Rue Tatin by Susan Herrman Loomis a while ago. I went nuts reading Ex-Pat Literature—not from any particular desire to move to another country (I’d rather try to straighten this one out first) but because it’s so much fun to move to another country vicariously, and let someone else go through the pain of finding the place to live and refurbishing it and what not.

Loomis’s book is about how she went to cooking school in France and ended up living in Louviers, in a house her husband refurbished for them. Being a food writer of some renown, of course she includes the recipes for several tasty dishes throughout On Rue Tatin, and one in particular caught my eye: Pear and Honey Clafoutis.

Why it caught my eye when a)I generally don’t eat fruit desserts, preferring to stuff my ever-growing cheeks with chocolate and b)I’ve never had a clafoutis, I have no idea.

But we had some rapidly ripening Comice pears and, well…what the hell.

Pear and Honey Clafoutis
From On Rue Tatin by Susan Herrmann Loomis
4 to 6 servings.

3 large pears/1.5 pounds/750g, peeled, cored, and cut in sixths
1/3 cup/75ml mild but perfumed liquid honey, such as lavender
4 large eggs
3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons/115g flour
1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon/50g sugar
Pinch of fine sea salt
1 cup/250ml milk
4 tablespoons/60g unsalted butter, melted and cooled

1. Preheat the oven to 400F/200C/gas 6. Butter and flour an 11-inch/27.5cm round baking dish

2. Arrange the pears in an attractive pattern in the baking dish. Drizzle them evenly with the honey.

3. Separate 3 of the eggs. In a large bowl mix the flour, all but 2 tablespoons (30g) of the sugar, and the salt. Make a well in the center and add the milk, 3 egg yolks, and 1 whole egg. Reserve the egg whites. Whisk together the ingredients in the well, then gradually whisk in the dry ingredients to make a smooth batter. Quickly but thoroughly whisk in the melted butter.

4. In another bowl, whisk the egg whites with a small pinch of salt until they are foamy. Add 1 tablespoon of sugar and contine whisking until soft peaks form. Fold the egg whites into the batter, then pour the batter over the pears. Bake in the center of the oven until the clafoutis is puffed and golden, about 30 minutes. Remove from the oven and place on a wire rack to cool.

5. To make the caramel, heat the remaining 1 tablespoon of sugar with 1 teaspoon of water in a small, heavy saucepan over medium heat, shaking the pan occasionally to evenly distribute the sugar, until the mixture turns a deep golden brown, 3 to 5 minutes. Don’t stir the sugar, which might encourage it to crystallize, just rotate the pan so the sugar and water carmelize evenly. When the sugar has caramelized, drizzle it over the top of the clafoutis. Wait about 5 minutes so the caramel hardens, then serve.

Okay, I have no idea how I did on the scale of Passable Clafoutis to Clafoutis Master, because, as I said before, I’ve never had a piece of clafoutis, nor have I ever seen one. I assume my preparation was not perfect: she mentions drizzling the honey over the pears, whereas for some reason with that amount of honey I poured it on thick and heavy all over the place; I never did get the egg whites to form soft peaks but I folded them in anyhow (guess I gotta get a copper bowl, eh?); and if I had to do it again I’d double the amount of caramel that I’d make up, because what you get from this mixture is a few droplets from the top of the dish, and I’d prefer more caramel.

That said, what I made was pretty goshdarn tasty, if a little too heavy on the honey for me. (Yes, I know what the name of the dish is. Stifle it.) Darin had two helpings. Cooked pear? Delicious. Yum.

The kids, of course, didn’t eat it. But I’m used to that by now. And, hey: more for me.

Update: Here is a picture of the 12-hour-old, refrigerated clafoutis:

I clearly have my work cut out for me in learning to take pictures of food. There are no green bits in the clafoutis, okay? Baaaaad lighting. I need stronger lighting if I’m going to take a picture of something.

I then cut a piece to see if I could take a picture of just one piece (not in focus, I couldn’t) and to eat. then Simon woke up from his nap, came downstairs, and checked out the piece serving as my model. “Eat that?” he asked. Whereupon he ate the unsuspecting piece of clafoutis. So, the pic of the baking tin is all you get.

I figure Darin will have a pretty good idea I’ll have gone ’round the bend when I start musing about going to cooking school or becoming a personal chef, making a week’s worth of food for a variety of clients. He was slightly concerned, for example, that I spent last night going through the entire archives of Chocolate & Zucchini, making notes about what I was going to cook. Well, I have an excuse: they looked tasty!

He was concerned to learn that I had signed us up for a biweekly half-order (vegetables and fruits) mixed box from Organic Express. I was all set to sign up to Planet Organic, which my brother-in-law subscribes to, but they don’t deliver to my area and I’d have to drive to pick up my box every week. I don’t think so. So when I saw an Organic Express truck going by my house, I logged on to their site and decided to give it a whirl. Advertising works, people. Advertising works.

When setting up the account, I said no cucumbers and cabbage. They are pointless foods and I won’t cook them, let alone eat them. There are other foods, such as spinach, that I have not as yet come to appreciate, but I’m working on it, okay? Pretty much everything else I can find some use for or Darin will eat (same difference).

Today was the first shipment, and I got:

• 10 small oranges
• 4 bananas
• 5 Fuji apples
• 2 Bosc pears
• 2 Anjou pears
• a gigantic head of broccoli
• 2 yams
• 5 or 6 red potatoes
• a head of carrots on the wee side (bigger than babies, much smaller than usual store carrots)
• a box of tiny cherry tomatoes

My first thought on looking at those tomatoes was, Darin will sure enjoy these! Then I remember: hey, I eat tomatoes now! I can eat these too. I have the feeling I’m missing an item or two on this list, but that’s a pretty good haul, I think. I will probably need to whip up a few fruit desserts (since I already had a kitchen full of recently-bought fruit), but I’m pretty sure I can make do with all these vegetables in the next week, let alone next two weeks.

Maybe I’ll have to go to a weekly shipment. And if that seems to be too much food, I can start a personal chef biz on the side…

Later: I see Derrick on his site (hey Derrick: add a Search function!) mentions some other, smaller CSAs in the area. So maybe I will have to check those out.