Showing posts with label vegan chocolate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vegan chocolate. Show all posts

Monday, August 13, 2012

Chocolate Bliss

The source of Micah's smile? I'm guessing it's his magical chocolates.

I'd have eaten the whole tray if I wasn't in civilized company. 
One of the best things about being a writer is the inevitable learning process that each new assignment becomes. You can't help but absorb information and expand your horizons when you're researching and writing about new things. Take chocolate, for instance.

OK: I already knew a thing or two about chocolate. Mostly, that I like the way it tastes. In France, there is no shortage of dark chocolate for vegans to indulge in, so I do it regularly (as in every single day). And with the opening of Un Monde Vegan, I even have access to white chocolate, and non-dairy-milk chocolate. C'est magnifique. But I digress.

Last month I was invited to attend a chocolate-making class by a visiting American and fellow vegan who would be teaching three workshops in Europe. Two of them happened to be in Paris, and while I didn't have a specific story in mind for this experience, I figured I'd come up with something. (I eventually did.)

One of a few "super" ingredients that give these chocolates that
extra  special something.

It's hard to let go when the chocolate tastes this good.

Micah and fellow raw chocalatier Frederic Marr turn on the handsome,
just like that.

On a balmy July afternoon I cycled across town to ChocoLatitudes, a new-to-me chocolate boutique on a quiet street tucked between Montparnasse Tower and Montparnasse cemetery. I arrived just in time for introductions; there were approximately 10 of us, an equal mix of Anglophones, Francophones, and one Italian to round things out. Initially, I sat myself at the back, thinking that since I was here to observe and report, I wouldn't need to be in the thick of the action. Laurence, ChocoLatitudes' owner, thought otherwise, and positioned me in a front-row-center sort of spot, with awesome views of the chocolate yumminess and the choco-maestro himself, Micah Intrator.


Enter ChocoLatitudes if you dare to be tempted by chocoholicism.

One of many vegan treats that await at ChocoLatitudes.

Laurence, fellow vegan and ChocoLatitudes' lovely owner.
Micah began dabbling in chocolate-making several years ago, mostly as an experiment. He wanted to package all the goodness of the superfood smoothies he made for himself each morning into a compact, portable form that would allow him easy access to sustained energy throughout the day. Turns out chocolate was the perfect vehicle. Today, he makes exquisite confections and sells them at artisan shops in and around his hometown of Chapel Hill, NC.

I won't stop staring until you let us taste.

How long until those are ready?

Throughout the two-hour class, Micah tutored us in the fine art of chocolatiering, making it look easy, fun, and kinda cool--in spite of the goji berries. Using interesting and unfamiliar  (to me) ingredients such as maca, mesquite, and lucuma, he created some of the best-tasting stuff I've ever had the joy of devouring. As a "reporter," I hadn't anticipated active participation, but all professionalism fell by the wayside when the samples started making their way around the room.

With the first taste, I morphed into ChocoMonster.  Hadn''t Neal Barnard written in one of his books that chocolate (like cheese) has opioid properties that mimic the same intoxicating feeling you get from heroin? This chocolate was so intense I could practically feel the opioids rolling around in my mouth. Especially in the Chocolate Caramel Crunch bars. Heaven on a stick. (Without the stick.)


The Italian contingency sampling the secret ingredients.

Stepping out into the street after the workshop, I had the sensation of soaring on a chocolate-covered cloud--one from which I hoped never to descend. I finally did, though, hours later. And since then, I've been dreaming about those chocolates, and remembering that chocolate high with a bittersweetness matched only by the dark, chocolately goodness of those magical confections.

Friday, October 29, 2010

Sweet (Tooth) Denial

I've always claimed to be that rarest of human specimens: she who does not possess a sweet tooth.

"I can totally live without dessert for the rest of my life," I'd boast to anyone who'd care to listen. "Just don't try to take my salted nuts or potato chips away. That's the stuff that makes life worth living." (OK: that and the wine.)

Well, turns out that I'm full of baloney.

While it's true I've never had a thing for marshmallows, Gummi Bears or Jujyfruits, I must admit to having a thing for chocolate, and for anything that's sort of simultaneously sweet and salty, like peanut-butter cups or salted caramels--both of which are rarely-to-never vegan.

Yesterday, with an hour to kill between dog-walking assignments, I decided to wander into Carrefour, deep in the heart of the bourgeois and ever-so-boring 16e.

The place is deceptively ginormous; moving through the chocolate aisle alone took 20 minutes. As I trolled the aisles, eyes bulging at the sheer quantity of choices in every food category, I proceeded to fill my basket with all kinds of goodies: bags of salty corn-nuts from the "Middle East" aisle, hefty bunches of those delectable Muscat grapes I've become addicted to, and giant jars of yummy lupini beans I first fell in love with in Italy last summer.

Finally, toward the end of my shopping excursion, I found the "bio" aisle, dedicated to all things organic. Here, I discovered something that made my heart skip a beat: dairy-free chocolate with, of all things, caramelized quinoa inside. Sold! (And what is it with the French and quinoa? They even sell quinoa milk at Naturalia.)

When I got home, I decided to study the packaging one last time before tearing into it. Definitely no milk, butter, eggs, or meat. But what I didn't see the first time was that this chocolate I so desperately wanted to sink my teeth into does contain decidedly non-vegan honey. Dammit!

I nibbled a square anyway, the buzz of a million stunned and dying honeybees providing the background noise inside my head. It was dark and delicious, but not worth the psychic discomfort.

While I continue exploring the mysterious world of French chocolate bars, my sweet tooth can safely indulge in two predictable favorites, hazelnuttylicious Chocolinette, and cheapo brand Belle France Caramel Popcorn. (The latter of which tastes divine when mixed with salted peanuts.)