Time
and time again, I have visited food blogs--each overpouring with
lovely, delicious, stylish, knowledgeable and witty recipes/musings--and
I have learned more about life, love, art, and food. Every foody has
brought me closer each of these elements, allowing me to gently fold
them together as every loving baker does. Love is art, life is love,
food is poetry, and so on. Simplicity. Unity. Gentle togetherness.
And then they blog about truffles.
There
are some simple rules that can make or break a ganache. Thankfully,
they are incredibly simple and will leave your tastebuds thanking you
for that je ne sais quoi shift.
“Proper”
ganache should include a mixture of heavy cream, butter, and a sugar of
sorts (Lyle’s Golden Syrup or Organic Raw Agave are my preferences as
opposed to corn or palm syrups) heated and poured over chocolate. Three
beautiful, warm ingredients and while they are my holy trinity they can
be deliciously exchanged, modified, or even upgraded (check out my vegan
section for that) with the perfect fourth ingredient of a solid
chocolate.
To
inspire your drive toward simplicity, and to bear in mind the delicate
treatment of the three ingredients going with your chocolate, why not
get a little help from Three Little Birds:
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The Basic Truffle Recipe
8 oz of quality chocolate*
⅔ cp heavy cream (35%-40%)
1-2 tbsp butter
1
tbsp syrup (bear in mind consistency, corn or cane syrups are thick,
while agave and maple syrups are light and more like water so if using
these add an oz more chocolate)
Chop the chocolate into fairly fine pieces, placing them into a heat resistant bowl. Set aside.
Gently
melt the butter on medium-low heat, adding the cream shortly after.
Dissolve syrup in the warm liquid and bump the heat to medium if need
be. Once you see the first bubbles of boiling forming along the edges,
take the cream mix off the burner. Stir.
Pour the cream mix over the chocolate and gently whisk, or stir with a wooden spoon.
Cover
and place in the fridge. If you like a very shiny chocolate you can
stir the ganache after 30-40 min. and cover it again or you can just
leave it for a minimum of two hours.
Once
cooled enough, roll the chocolate into little, big, uniform, or
non-uniform balls. Either dust them in cocoa or get adventurous with
spices/nuts, etc. Refrigerate or quick freeze the truffles and then
you’ll have at least 30 little delights to feast upon.
*Bernard
Callebaut chocolate is available in many bulk stores, but beware of
blooms and aging. Chocolate can keep for up to one year if left in a
cool, dry place. If you live in Toronto and are looking for vegan, fair
trade chocolate, SOL is a wonderful little company, getting its
chocolate as close to the source and with as little additives as
possible. White chocolate can also be lovely, but bear in mind that it
is the buttery mass of the cocoa bean and is thus far less solid than
the reduced dark matter, so bump up this recipe to nearly double if
using only white chocolate, or your fingers will end up hopelessly
sticky... not that that’s a bad thing.
__________________________________________________________________________________
The most important rule
is that of heat; never boil your cream and never put your chocolate
directly above a heated element--the texture, look, and taste of burnt
chocolate is most displeasing. Keep the chocolate in a
non-heat-conducting bowl--the warmth of the cream is enough to gently
melt the chocolate while not scorching it. You will find the shiny
pudding-like consistency of a good ganache is not just visually pleasing
but assists the setting and rolling processes--it keeps your chocolate
smoother and more together, allowing for a consist set, minimizing air
bubbles and blooms.
The
next rule--relating to the first--is that of texture, which is why I
encourage the use of even miniscule amounts of butter and syrup; your
ganache should be well-mixed, shiny and lacking air pockets (as your
chocolate hardens, air pockets will turn into discoloured plumes over
the chocolate, making it look old and giving it an uneven texture).
The
rest is entirely that of preference. While I would suggest dark
chocolate, this is merely a matter of taste, despite the temptation to
boast that it’s a matter of objectively better, more layered, dynamic,
flavourful chocolate. However, one should be aware of taste pairings--it
shouldn’t be shocking that different spices/flavourings add a different
layer of taste depending on the type and quality of your chocolate, but
this is no more a rule than whether or not to put oregano in pasta
sauce is a rule. One will only know if one experiments. And
experimenting, I have most certainly done.
It
began in my fourth year of university. After two intense years of
weight loss aggravated by physical and mental health problems I was
determined to eat and be content with my life. I had known for some time
that I had been unfulfilled and generally not where I was supposed to
be--I figured, step one meant eating right (or simply eating). Yet, to
figure out that the preparing of food was where I felt fulfilled, I
first focused upon the consumption of food. Very quickly this trickled
into the feeding of others--what foods were better for the allergies of
the children I babysat and the comfort and health of their mother, what
was best for my kosher-friendly friends, for the vegan-dabbling raw
foody best friend, etc. I even considered foods that my bland-loving
friends could enjoy. For years, muffins had been the realm of
experimentation, so why not something even better and appetite-inducing?
Chocolate.
Once
the chocolate experimentations began, it was as if a whole new world
had opened. Having been on a medication which made it difficult to
fulfill most any desire (known as Wellbutrin, an anti-depressant,
marketed as a smoking-cessation aid due its suppression of appetites),
experimenting with the most appetizingly delicious flavours made my
appetites take a more delightful turn. The making and sharing of
chocolate filled the emotional wasteland that had been clear-cut by
repressive medications, an unpoetic educational institution, and an
increasingly devoid affection.
At
this time, I had been working on an undergraduate thesis--the topic of
which, unsurprisingly, was desire and its political/medical
controlling/manipulating/repressing. Some people find the academic tone
to be the best mode of self-expression. I realized while writing my
thesis that I was not among such lovely, adamant, analytical folk. My
critiques of the medical community were far too impassioned, far too
cocky, and far too theoretical for the structured thesis-format.
Moreover, I discovered, all too late, that it was not a form that I
inherently enjoyed. Ultimately, few people truly find fulfillment and
completion of self-expression in academe. They are a lucky, lost, mad
few, indeed.

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