the making of chocolate, part one: cacao harvest and processing

In preschool, I thought I didn't like chocolate because my best friend Anna didn't. We only liked it in the form of chocolate covered popcorn and pretzels. Luckily this phase didn't last too long. I don't remember exactly when I realized my taste buds diverged from Anna's, but I do remember when I started to truly appreciate the wonder of high-quality chocolate. It was my junior year of college in my "Anthropology of French Food" class. Yes, the class was as amazing as it sounds. The syllabus was divided into bread, cheese, wine, and chocolate, and we read a book about each. For the chocolate section, my professor conducted a long and involved tasting of different brands of dark chocolate with different cacao percentages. I remember her instructing us to let the chocolate melt on our tongues versus chewing it - to better appreciate the flavor and help us savor it as the French would.

In the further development of my chocolate education, I've since taken a chocolate-making class while on vacation in Peru, and toured the amazing Dandelion Chocolate - a "bean to bar" chocolate factory in San Francisco. So, before coming to Hawaii I knew at least a little bit about chocolate-making, though almost nothing about cacao harvest and processing.  

Here at Kuaiwi Farm where I'm WWOOFing in Hawaii, we grow AND make our own chocolate - cacao seed to mature pod to chocolate bar. The process is lengthy, but has definitely been the most interesting (and rewarding) thing I've done here so far. The surprises and treats along the way are the kind you only get when you're doing the hard work of making this stuff yourself from start to finish. 

Below I'll outline the process from pod to dried beans. (And I'll follow up with the beans-to-bar process in a coming post):

step 1: harvest

cacao trees

they're relatively small and low to the ground

another view of the cacao grove

the pods can be yellow, red, or a hybrid sort-of striped variety

cacao pods

some grow right off the base of the trunk!

To check whether they're ready to be harvested, we nick the skin. If it's yellow, they're ready. If it's green, it needs more time. You can see the nick I made in the upper left - this one's ready!

tiny baby pods!

this is a big one!

they come in a variety of shapes and sizes

a green pod - full size but far from ripe

some striped pods

they're just so beautiful!

First, we harvest the cacao. It grows here year round, and we harvest roughly once a month when enough pods are ripe enough for a decent batch. Click through the photos above for more details on trees and pods.

step 2: crack open & get the fruit and beans out!

harvested cacao pods

the brown means some of these are a tad overripe 

milky white fruit coating the beans inside

you can see that the pod's outer layer is extremely thick - at least a half inch all the way around - so our nicks to test ripeness don't hurt it at all

pod with fruit taken out

i ate the middle stringy part

it's just more fruit - I couldn't get enough!

Immediately after the harvest, we clean the pods of any dirt and then crack them open by pounding each one a few times with a mallet. Inside is a spiral of milky white fruit that coats the beans. The way the pieces of fruit fit together in their spirals remind me of a honeycomb - so beautiful! The frothy fruit-covered beans may look a little unappetizing but, let me tell you, that white fruit is DELICIOUS! I can best describe it as bright, clean and refreshing - if you've ever tasted a lychee, it reminds me of that a little but a bit sweeter. Inside the white fruit are the cacao beans from which we make chocolate. The beans have funky shapes and sizes that vary throughout each pod. You can eat the bean at this stage - of course, I tried it just to see! - but they are extremely bitter and astringent, much more so than a dried raw cacao bean or nib.  

As we remove the fruit-covered beans from the pods, we put them into a colander with a bowl underneath to catch any extra juice. The next day we drink this juice - lovingly referred to as the "honey of the cacao" - there isn't a ton of it (maybe three small glasses from this harvest) but BOY IS IT DELICIOUS!!!!!! Same flavor as the fruit but in juice form - light and refreshing like fresh coconut water but with a completely different and delicious flavor.

step 3: fermentation

fruit-covered cacao beans as they drain and start fermentation

Once the fruit-covered beans are in their colander over a bowl, we let it drain on the counter overnight to collect the delicious juice. The next day they go into a banana-leaf-lined bin, tightly covered and then put inside a big wooden box, where they ferment in their fruit for 8 to 10 days.

the cacao fermentation box

step 4: drying

After fermentation is complete, the beans are washed and then dried in the sun for 2 to 3 weeks. The amount of time varies based on sun and weather.  

Coming soon - part two detailing the bean to bar process! Stay tuned!

the most magical salad dressing - sizzled shallot vinaigrette

I dedicate this first recipe post (FINALLY!!!) to my wonderful mom. 

Once upon a time, I was that nerdy girl who still had a lunchbox in 8th grade, when everyone had long converted to the much cooler brown bags. I still remember that lunchbox – it was pale blue from GapKids with an elastic-bungie-water-bottle-holder on the front. Despite my extreme embarrassment to be carrying a lunchbox at 13, I continued to do so because of A) my convictions for the environment and resulting hatred of daily throw-away paper bags, and B) pure function. I needed that lunchbox because the deliciousness toted inside required multiple Tupperwares and sometimes even a thermos. 

I have zero doubts that for the duration of my school-age life, I had the absolute best lunches in the cafeteria. I’m talking homemade wedding soup, chicken & pesto wraps on lavash, mixed green salads with roasted tomatoes and homemade dressing in those tiny medicine-cup-sized Tupperwares that my brothers always seemed to lose. There was always real, metal silverware to eat with. And oftentimes a love note too. 

The mastermind behind my daily made-from-scratch lunch creations was my one-of-a-kind mom. I know that any writing I do about food will always be infused with references to my mom and her cooking. Every time I sit down to write something for this blog, I’m amazed at the way food memories about my family just come oozing out. 

This is my mom’s recipe, which she created/replicated on her own after we had enjoyed it many times at one of our favorite restaurants in Wilmington, North Carolina where we’d vacation every summer. It sounds oh-so-glamorous, but it is very easy to make and SO INCREDIBLY DELICIOUS, you might even be tempted to drink it (only half kidding). Its hearty texture lends it permission to act as a sauce as well, and it's great on just about anything - roasted veggies, spooned over eggs, as a dipping oil for bread, you name it. I haven't met anyone who didn't think it was magical, and I love it so much that I make it almost every other week. I'm confident you will too!

 
Sizzled Shallot Vinaigrette

Makes roughly 1.5 cups of dressing
Total time: about 45 minutes
Active time: about 15 minutes

Ingredients:
- olive oil and/or grapeseed oil
- dijon mustard
- 1 to 3 shallots
- balsamic vinegar
- salt and pepper to taste (optional)

Tools & stuff:
- small shallow pan (a small saucepan works fine too)
- a pint-size jar with a lid  
- a knife for chopping, a fork, spoon, and a soft spatula
- your stovetop

Things to know:
- I find it most efficient to make this recipe when I am already doing other cooking. There is a good amount of down time and it’s ideal to be in the kitchen to keep an eye on your shallots while they’re heating up. 
- If you like warm dressings on a salad, it's completely fine to make this just before serving. Otherwise, I recommend making it a day ahead (that’s what I usually do). It will last a week or two in the fridge - if you can keep it around that long! Oils often solidify in the fridge, so if making ahead - make sure to bring to room temp before using.

Instructions:

1. Peel and chop the shallots to somewhere in between a rough and fine chop. I usually use two or three shallots, but you can get away with one. The more shallots, the more “chunky” your dressing will be, and the more dressing you can make. I like it chunky, but to each her own.

2. Place the chopped shallots in a shallow pan on the stove, and spread them out to make an even layer. Pour olive oil and/or grapeseed oil* into the pan - enough to just cover the shallots. This will vary depending on the size of your pan, but should be close to a cup of oil. 

*Note about the oils: I am trained (thanks to my dad) to use grapeseed oil for cooking, as it has a higher smoke point than olive oil (more info here). Grapeseed oil’s mild flavor is good for dressings, and I usually throw in some olive oil for flavor at the end. But if I don't have grapeseed oil, I make this recipe using only olive oil and it works perfectly well. 

3. Using your smallest burner, turn the heat on low or simmer. You’ll keep it this way for 10-20 minutes, depending on the power of your stove. Usually around 10-15 minutes, the oil will start to lightly bubble. The goal is for the shallots to be translucent but not at all brown or crispy. Once the shallots are soft and translucent (usually when it starts bubbling or a couple minutes after), turn off the heat and move the pan to a cool burner. The mixture should smell warmly fragrant and a little sweet. If the shallots do get a tad brown or crispy, it will still be ok, just turn off the heat as soon as you see this happening. 

4. Allow the oil & shallot mixture to cool for about 10-15 minutes. Then, use your spatula/spoon to carefully scoop the oil and shallots into the jar.

5. Add about a tablespoon of Dijon mustard and about two tablespoons of balsamic vinegar (or about ¼ the amount of oil in your jar). Using the fork, whisk it up in the jar so that the mustard, vinegar and oil emulsify. It should be a creamy brown color. It won’t blend perfectly due to the shallot chunks, so once it starts coming together (or if you're having trouble getting it to come together), put the lid on the jar and shake well. If the oil is still warm, be careful when you're shaking it - warm liquids shaken tend to make a bit of a mess.

6. Take off the lid and spoon* a little dressing onto a piece of lettuce to taste it. Add more mustard/vinegar to taste, a little at a time. If needed (or if you used grapeseed oil), add a little olive oil as well (If you accidentally add too much mustard or vinegar, add a little more oil to round it out.) If you’d like, add salt and pepper to taste.

Voila! Magic in a jar.

*Note that some of the oil will always stay at the top and won’t mix in fully. This is totally normal and fine. Just use a spoon instead of pouring out the dressing to make sure you get equal parts shallot-mixture and oil. And when you're doing your taste-tests while making, be sure to get through the oil on top and down into the shallot-y goodness!
 

PS. Author’s note: I never measure when I make this recipe because I do it all to taste, so that’s why the amounts are pretty rough. Making your own salad dressings is the perfect way to start learning to cook by using your senses more than measuring. If you add too much vinegar, you can just add more oil to balance it back out. If it’s not creamy enough, add another squirt of mustard. I promise you can’t mess this up (other than completely burning the shallots), but I’m new at this recipe writing so please share your feedback!!!

aloha for now

The beauty of all-encompassing stillness.
A dogged hunt for that one mosquito that got in the house. 
Tasting a new fruit I didn’t know existed: every. single. day.
Feeling psychologically stripped-down (in a good way).
Waking up to real live rooster-song.
The creamiest avocados – all you can eat, all day every day.

These are just a few of the things I’ve experienced in the last week since I stepped foot on the 5-acre Hawaiian farm I’m calling home for the next three months. 

Let’s step back for a second. In my previous two posts, I wrote about how I got into food and the goals of my blog. Since then I’ve been on hiatus, and I still haven’t posted any recipes… I know – LAME!

The truth is, a few things have been holding me back:
a. I don’t have a crystal clear direction for what I want this blog to be.
b. Posting my writing publicly is scary (!) and
c. Writing recipes is harder than I thought because I never measure anything - oops!

But I'm moving past all of these. I know that I need to write about food, and I really want to share the food I make and inspire people to build confidence in the kitchen. I know I need to just do it. So I commit to doing it. Regularly. For the next three months (and hopefully well beyond).

Ok - I’m sure you’re wondering how I ended up on a farm in Hawaii. Since those initial blog posts back in June, I quit my food job in favor of the freedom to very intentionally figure out my next food/career move. I’m 90% sure I don’t want to be a chef, but I knew that I wanted to try being “closer” to food to determine whether I’d like to be some kind of artisan, farmer, or other food producer. At the very least, I knew that I wanted to experience firsthand what it’s like to work at growing food every day – for my love of food and new knowledge if nothing else.

Being single and 27 with a big case of the travel bug, I thought I should have some adventure before anything else. Hawaii was at the top of my travel list and working on a farm was at the top of my food to-do list, so marrying the two seemed like a perfect, intentional adventure. To top it off – Hawaii is the only place in the United States that grows coffee – my one true love. A little research, two emails and a phone call later, and I was accepted as an intern at the Big Island coffee farm I’m on now. The deal is – I work 30 hours a week in exchange for housing and food. I’m at an all-organic farm that grows mainly coffee and macadamia nuts to sell, as well as cacao for chocolate, and a variety of tropical fruits that get processed into jellies, jams, dried fruit and fruit leathers. Naturally, a variety of vegetables, herbs and bountiful tropical fruits are grown for our own consumption. Oh - and there are some wild chickens that occasionally leave eggs, though I’m still waiting to find one.

When I arrived last Wednesday, aside from the sheer disbelief that I was actually doing this, I was first overcome by the peaceful stillness of the farm, especially at night. We’re in a pretty remote area about 30 minutes south of Kona, at 2,000 ft elevation. The only “neighbor” sounds I’ve heard are an occasional dog bark or lawnmower. Otherwise, it’s just the crickets, birds, rain, and rustle of the wind.

Now that I’ve been here for a week, I’m realizing how utterly ideal this situation is for me at this moment in my life. For the next three months I'm embracing a simple lifestyle on the farm. From 7:30am - 1:30pm I get to work with my body (weeding, picking coffee, harvesting fruit, planting seeds, making jam, etc) and mind (trying to absorb as much information as possible from farmer & owner Una, with some food policy discussions sprinkled in among my unending questions).  And then from 1:30pm on I’m free to read, write, cook, and reflect. It’s like a food lover’s learning & writing retreat. I couldn’t be more excited and I hope you’ll follow along with me to see how this adventure unfolds!

Other than here on the blog, you can find me on my Instagram (@garlicpressjess) and SnapChat: (jslioon/garlic press jess) for the daily dirt. More on Hawaii later, and get excited for at least two recipes coming within a week. Promise!

yeah, it's pretty great here