Snackshots: Polar Vortex (Warm Chocolate Edition)

2014-01-03 15.23.59

Can you guess the theme of this post?

I think I’ve proven my commitment to dessert by now. It’s generally an easy guarantee to make that, much like the US Postal Service, neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of light will stay this sweet seeker from the swift ingesting of a toothsome treat. But the weather gods tested my resolve this past week with the crushing blow of the Polar Vortex, plunging temperatures around the country and for once dissuading me from satisfying my cravings with an ice cream cone. With frozen dessert out of the way, I found myself falling back on an oldie-but-goody — the timeless allure of hot chocolate. As I battled with the windchill to avoid frostbite (although at least I was in a part of the country that could safely venture outside), I found a couple of a worthy warm chocolate treats to start the reheating process from the inside-out.

 

L.A. Burdick:

I'm dreaming of a white chocolate Christmas..,

I’m dreaming of a white chocolate Christmas..,

After returning to Hu Kitchen for a relatively healthy lunch, it was clear that Jacob and I needed some emergency chocolate, stat (I mean, what’s the point of a nutritious meal if you don’t immediately slather it in sugar?). Jacob suggested a trip to L.A. Burdick, yet another confectionary near his apartment (because ‘Wichcraft, Beecher’s, Maison Kayser and City Bakery aren’t enough for the neighborhood. Frickin’ Gramercy grumblegrumble).

I’d initially come across about this chocolate shop while researching the best hot chocolate in the city, but hadn’t managed to stop by last winter. The shop was started by an American named Larry Burdick, who became enamored with the chocolate he encountered during a trip to Switzerland and France. He started making chocolate in New York City, but Burdick and his family then moved to Walpole, NH and expanded the business, now operating cafes, restaurants, and even a grocery in Walpole, the Boston-metro area, and once more in NYC.

Every surface is piled high with chocolate-related goods.

Did you say you wanted chocolate? I think we might have some of that here…

The white chocolate version of the famous mice.

The white chocolate version of the famous mice.

Walking in, I couldn’t help but think of L.A. Burdick as a larger, more established version of one of my absolute favorite spots in Philly — the now-defunct Naked Chocolate (rest in peace), a fantastic chocolatier where I had my first taste of authentic European drinking chocolate. The New York location is a combination cafe and retail shop, with a few benches and tables up front, and the remaining space completely covered in chocolate products and paraphernalia. There are two counters inside — to the right, you can buy beverages and pastries, while on the left you can choose from a selection of their chocolate and bon bons, including their famous chocolate mice and chocolate penguins. In between the two are tables piled high with chocolate bars, gift sets, candy, and take-home hot chocolate mixes.

In the door, and straight to the beverage counter. Do not pass go, do not collect bon bons.

In the door, and straight to the beverage counter. Do not pass go, do not collect bon bons.

But with our feet demonstrably caked in slush, Jacob and I made a beeline for the drinks counter, quickly dismissing slices of cake or linzer torte in our quest for drinking chocolate. On Jacob’s previous visit he had tried the Burdick Blend Dark Chocolate (there are also milk and white chocolate blends), and though I was tempted by the other two, by this point I know Jacob’s preference for dark chocolate, and so was perfectly happy to try one of L.A. Burdick’s single-source varieties (ranging from Bolivia to Grenada). Now I know next-to-nothing about terroir, wine, chocolate or otherwise, so I let Jacob chose our source variety. He went with the Madagascar, because of some amazing Madagascan chocolate he’d had from Michel Cluizel’s shop.

I'm fairly certain they use this hot chocolate for the mustaches in the Got Milk? ads.

I’m fairly certain they use this hot chocolate for the mustaches in the Got Milk? ads.

Although I can’t compare our cup to the standard Burdick blends or the other source varieties (guess I’ll just have to make a return trip … or several), the hot chocolate ended up being a showstopper. We shared a large, which was a strong choice, since L.A. Burdick is not joking around when it comes to texture and flavor. This ain’t no powdery Swiss Miss packet. The chocolate is thick, nearly spreadable in consistency, coating your tongue and throat like the best cough drop you’ve ever had. The liquid is opaque, as if you were being served a warmed cup of melted chocolate ice cream. The flavor was complex, the bitterness from the high cacao percentage tempering the inherent sweetness of the milk.  L.A. Burdick’s hot chocolate is perhaps a little less intense than the hot chocolate at City Bakery, which basically serves you a cup of I-need-to-go-lie-down chocolate soup. However, while L.A. Burdick’s version is definitely not a casual , on-the-go-drink, it is a great way to experience and savor a high quality chocolate, and in these chilly months, to warm yourself up. Plus, they’ll throw a little liquor in there if you’re looking for a night-cap (or want to pre-game with a heavy dairy-dessert, whatever floats your boat).

You have to love a place that sells tiny chocolate penguins.

You just have to love a place that sells tiny chocolate penguins.

 

LeChurro:

LeChurro: a slim cafe to match their products.

LeChurro: a slim space to match their products.

A few nights later, it seemed like the air was only getting colder. Somehow I managed to convince Jacob to come up to my neck of the woods for once, to finally check an item off our endless list at the aptly named churro shop, LeChurro. Located on Lexington between 82nd and 83rd, LeChurro is a petite shop sitting right in between two subway stops. Although I rarely walk down that way, there was pretty good traffic during our visit, especially considering how chilly it was outside.

Part of the great LeChurro recipe, according to their wall mural.

Part of the great LeChurro recipe, according to their wall mural.

The small, boxy space is largely taken up by the counter and kitchen behind it, where churros are fried to order. The remaining area is taken up by a bench lining the north wall and a few small tables and chairs across from it. The south wall is lined with shelves filled with merchandise (both connected to churros and the kind of oddball knick-knacks you’d find at Urban Outfitters). The wall above the seating displays a large mural detailing “The Great LeChurro Recipe from Spain,” with cartoon illustrations of the ingredients and procedures of producing the perfect churro. The entire cafe gives off a quirky, tongue-in-cheek vibe which helps to mitigate the pretentious air that comes from running a Spanish churro-centric shop, especially one called LeChurro.

Ah yes, exactly as the Queen said during WWII.

Ah yes, exactly as the Queen said during WWII.

When we arrived the cashier was handing out free samples of their Spanish Thick Drinking Chocolate. Of course, it was nowhere near the caliber of L.A. Burdick’s rendition, but LeChurro is clearly going for a more down-to-earth, possibly multiple-source chocolate drink. Taken on its own, it was a rich, decadent hot chocolate, slightly thicker than what you’d get at a coffeehouse, and on the darker side of milk chocolate.

The menu offers iterations of churros, milkshakes, hot chocolates, and coffee and espresso. Within the churros you can get the normal long, straw of dough with a variety of dipping sauces, or bite-sized mini churros, or filled churros, which are circular churros covered in a sauce and then dipped in chocolate. They even have churro sundaes and savory churros (called “pizzos” and made up of mini churros stuffed with mozzarella and topped with marinara).

Our Cone of Churros, plus the freebies. Chocolate comes to those who wait.

Our Cone of Churros, plus the freebies. Chocolate comes to those who wait.

We ended up selecting the traditional “Cone of Churros” with Hazelnut Chocolate dipping sauce, because at this point my life, I’ve fully sold my soul to Nutella. LeChurro had been somewhat busy when I placed the order and paid, so I wasn’t surprised that there was a little delay in our churros’ arrival (after all, they’re frying to order). But then the store emptied out, and Jacob and I sat quietly waiting as nearly ten minutes passed with nary a Spanish pastry in sight. Finally I got up and asked (aka reminded) the cashier about it. Both he and the cook were very apologetic, having clearly forgotten our order completely. They went to work immediately, and gave us a few freebies to make up for it, so when we were finally served we got a couple more small tastes of the drinking chocolate, a dulce de leche filled churro, and two extra plain churros in our cone.

The churros flying solo.

The churros flying solo.

No surprise, the churros were fresh and warm, straight from the fryer and dusted in cinnamon sugar. At their core they have a flavor reminiscent of funnel cake, and the cinnamon sugar topping added just the barest hint of spice. I appreciated the crunchy outer layer and the airy interior, but considering how freshly made they were, these churros were just not that memorable. I actually much preferred our free filled churro, since there you had the textural contrast of the smooth chocolate coating, the sticky, gooey dulce de leche, and the cakey softness of the inner pastry. I much prefer this type of salty-sweet combo to the sea salt and caramel trend that continues to flood all dessert shops (I’m looking at you, 16 Handles). The extra samples of drinking chocolate were as tasty as the first ones we tried, but the stand-out liquid was actually the hazelnut dipping sauce, proving once again the all-powerful allure of warmed Nutella.

I could definitely see myself returning to LeChurro, albeit for a beverage rather than the churros themselves. The hot chocolate menu features a variety of flavor additions (including hazelnut), and I’d easily give into sampling one of the shakes or a frozen hot chocolate once we exit double-socks-triple-scarves territory.

 

I’d say both L.A. Burdick and LeChurro are spots to keep in your back pocket if you’re as much of a chocoholic as I am. I’m eager to go back to L.A. Burdick and explore some more single source varieties, especially since I’m still trying to expand my taste for dark chocolate. But it’s also nice to have LeChurro in my neighborhood, as a casual, spur of the moment kind of place that offers a dessert option beyond the endless froyo buffets. Although, now that the Polar Vortex has spun on, I’m kinda in the mood for some ice cream…

 

L.A. Burdick

5 East 20th Street

http://www.burdickchocolate.com/chocolateshop-cafe-nyc.aspx

LeChurro

1236 Lexington Avenue

http://lechurro.com/

Advertisements

The Grand Cookie Crawl: Jacques Torres Chocolate

The frosty air of these winter months dulls the senses. I leaned into the wind, pulling my collar tighter against my neck. I’d let myself get distracted in the past few weeks, pulled in by the jelly-filled hemlines of fancy dames like Lady Orwasher, or the dulcet tones of that Salty Pimp. Truth was, I couldn’t figure the last time I’d really knuckled down on the case. Here I was, a chance to pull myself out of the slums, to stop taking cases full of nobodies like those Fig Newtons and Chips Ahoy, a chance to play with the big boys, and what was I doing? Spinning my wheels and letting my eyes wander. I’m supposed to be checking out these alleged “best chocolate chip cookies” of New York, and all the checking out I’m doing is at the Food Emporium down the block. Another gust blew through me. Numb fingers fumbled with the slip of paper in my pocket. I had to refocus. Yes, all I had was this flimsy lead — a single name, an Upper West Side address, although I’d heard this guy had been seen all over the city. But I had to stop fooling around. I’d staked my reputation on this — there’s only one broad on the dessert beat, and that’s me. If I wanted to keep my cred, I had to check this guy out. Tonight, I had a date with Mr. Chocolate.

I can’t be the only one thinks a little film noir voiceover would add a lot of gravitas to everyday life, right? A little Bogie and Bacall to brighten up your case of the Mondays? At least then I can ignore the fact that my great “mission” is to purchase and devour a whole mess of chocolate chip cookies. Despite numerous delicious setbacks, this past weekend I finally got back to the Grand Cookie Crawl, making my way to one of the stores of Mr. Chocolate himself, Jacques Torres.

Jacques Torres Chocolate has 6 locations throughout Manhattan and Brooklyn, including one shop that focuses on ice cream instead of chocolate. Torres, a world-renowned pastry chef, is known mainly for his bars, bon bons, and hot chocolate (which I fully intend to investigate at a later date), but I’d seen his chocolate chip cookies on several “best of” lists, and I could believe that a man who prides himself on the quality of his chocolate, probably uses damn fine chocolate chips. So I paid a visit to the Upper West Side chocolate shop, which is a mere half a block away from Levain Bakery. Despite their physical proximity, the two businesses couldn’t be more different.

 

First Impressions:

The warm browns and reds and endless chocolate products make Jacques Torres pretty inviting from the get-go.

The warm browns and reds of the decor make Jacques Torres appear Continental, yet inviting from the get-go.

 

Unlike Levain’s humble basement bakeshop, Jacques Torres Chocolates (JTC) is a spacious, brightly lit shop in the style of a Parisian cafe. Once you walk in you’re faced with two options — to the left is a long counter displaying baked goods and chocolate confections, and to the right is the coffee and hot chocolate bar. The walls are filled with shelves and shelves of chocolate products, from powders to chocolate covered nuts and more. Torres said his initial vision was to create a “chocolate wonderland,” and the almost-overwhelming variety of chocolate products on display seems pretty Wonka-esque to me. One of his downtown locations features large windows into his factory floor, allowing customers to view the chocolate-making process in action, which I imagine only adds to the fantasy of Oompa-Loompas dredging chocolate rivers. The cafe has a few tables scattered throughout, and it seemed to be a cozy space to get a coffee and share a few treats with a friend. Although the cold weather was practically begging me to get a cup of hot chocolate, I had to resist and turn my attention to the cookie counter.

A view from the back of the shop -- the coffee/hot chocolate bar is in the background.

A view from the back of the shop — the coffee/hot chocolate bar is in the background.

 

The Cookies:

You really can't beat multiple stacks of cookies on display. Up front, the Chocolate Chip, and just behind it is the Mudslide. The Peanut Butter cookie is hiding in the very back.

You really can’t beat multiple stacks of cookies on display. Up front, the Chocolate Chip, and just behind it is the Mudslide. The Peanut Butter cookie is hiding in the very back.

 

The cookies are placed at the very front of the store, the closest items to the register. JTC offers 3 types of cookies — the standard Chocolate Chip, the Chocolate Mudslide (a double chocolate cookie with walnuts), and a Peanut Butter cookie. In our continuing two cookie sampling process, Jacob and I purchased the Chocolate Chip and the Chocolate Mudslide. JTC has its own procedure for delivering a unique cookie experience — while Levain is constantly baking batches to give customers cookies fresh out of the oven, and City Bakery keeps their cookies lukewarm under hot lamps, JTC gives you the option of enjoying a warm cookie no matter what time of day. Only the Chocolate Chip and Mudslide are available warm, a feat achieved by keeping a stash of cookies on a hot plate just behind the register.

The Chocolate Chip and the Chocolate Mudslide, coming in at about the size of a bagel.

The Chocolate Chip and the Chocolate Mudslide, coming in at about the size of a bagel.

 

In terms of physical makeup, the JTC’s cookies are large and flat, much more in the vein of City Bakery’s brand rather than the pet-rock shaped Levain cookies. They seemed to be about the size of a classic black and white cookie or a medium-sized bagel  — barely fitting in your hand. The Chocolate Chip was a little larger than the Mudslide, but the Mudslide won the fight in terms of thickness.

The dark streaks of chocolate that were visible on the surface turned out to be liquid chocolate eager to burst out.

The dark streaks of chocolate that were visible on the surface turned out to be pockets of liquid chocolate eager to burst out.

 

Breaking into the cookie, the effects of the different warming techniques became obvious. City Bakery’s cookies had just a little give but were predominately crunchy — still flavorful, but clearly baked much earlier the day. As I gushed about before, Levain’s fresh-baked cookies were my kind of texture, slightly underdone with a soft, chewy dough that mixed with the melting chocolate. JTC’s cookie again falls somewhere in the middle. The hot plate turned the chocolate chips into pockets of gooey, melted chocolate puddles, reminiscent of hot fudge sauce when you broke the cookie apart. The warmed dough was also softer, splitting easily but with a crispy top and definitely completely baked through. The Mudslide was much the same, although it seemed to have a center entirely made up of melted chocolate (the picture below reminds me of Orwasher’s jelly donut, in terms of level of filling). Perhaps because of this, the cookie itself seemed more pliable than the Chocolate Chip. In both cases, the melted quality of the chocolate made for a pretty messy eating experience — cue gobs all over my fingers and chin. These cookies are not intended for dainty eating.

The Mudslide -- once opened, the center of the cookie basically collapsed into a pool of chocolate fudge.

The Mudslide — once opened, the center of the cookie basically collapsed into a pool of chocolate fudge.

 

The Verdict:

To be honest, I was pretty disappointed with JTC’s Chocolate Chip cookie. While the chocolate used in the cookie was of a noticeably high quality, I found the cookie itself to be subpar. The dough was one-note, with the flavor of butter overwhelming everything else. Where were the caramelly notes of brown sugar? Where was the freaking vanilla? There was no subtlety to the cookie, and I found myself equating it to the slice-and-bake Mrs. Field’s cookies that they used to sell for a buck at the school store in junior high. It’s not that I mind a solid Mrs. Field’s cookie, but if you’re going to assert that your cookies are gourmet quality, you better be a step up from Le Tollhouse. While the texture of the Chocolate Chip cookie was more my style than City Bakery, ultimately I’d rank CB’s chocolate chip over JTC due to the dough.


I’m starting to see a real pattern in the Cookie Crawl — I tend to like the “alternate” cookie way more than the standard Chocolate Chip. This happened again at JTC, where I thought the Mudslide was far superior in all categories. Maybe it was because the chocolate was the star of the show. The Mudslide was basically a chocolate bomb in your mouth — bittersweet chocolate chips (well, molten fudge really) mixed with unsweetened cocoa powder and more chopped up bittersweet chocolate. The simplicity of the cookie is what makes it so successful — considering Jacques Torres is Mr. Chocolate, it’s unsurprising that his back-to-basics chocolate cookie would be the one to shine.

Overall, Levain keeps the top ranking by a wide margin. City Bakery was a solid cookie, but I’d rather try some of their other offerings, and Jacques Torres limps in at a far third. I did really enjoy the chocolate within the cookies, which makes me want to taste the bon bons and the variety of hot chocolates. But it looks like the traditional bakeries have the edge right now — Mr. Chocolate should stick to his gourmet confectioning, and leave the sugar creaming and dough baking to the cookie professionals.

Jacques Torres Chocolate
285 Amsterdam Ave (between 73rd and 74th)
http://www.mrchocolate.com