Preparation
Techniques applied to chocolate that already exists — as distinct from the steps that made it. Each one is written around its failure modes, because that is what readers arrive searching for.
This is not a recipe section
There are no ingredient lists or yields here. What generalises is the ratio and the technique: a 2:1 ganache survives being scaled and a recipe does not, and knowing that milk chocolate needs 3:1 for the same firmness is worth more than any single set of quantities.
Getting cocoa butter to set in its stable crystal form, at home, without a machine. The physics is identical to the factory step; the equipment is not.
An emulsion of chocolate and cream. The ratio is chosen for the intended use, and it changes with the type of chocolate rather than with taste.
The most basic technique and the one with the two most common disasters: seizing from water, and scorching from heat.
Two different drinks share the name. Which one you are making determines everything about how to make it.
Substituting one chocolate for another changes the sugar, the fat and the liquid balance at once, which is why the substitution so often fails.
Coating a centre by hand with a fork. The simplest enrobing there is, and everything depends on the centre being dry and at room temperature.
Casting tempered chocolate into a mould and letting it contract out. Mould release is the honest test of whether the tempering worked.
Piped shapes, curls, shards and transfer designs. The one area where compound coating is the better choice.
A pourable emulsion that stays pourable. Structurally a loose ganache, with the ratio pushed past where it would set.
Three quite different things share the name, and choosing between them is mostly about how it has to behave once piped.
An aerated chocolate preparation, and the classic case where the chocolate's percentage determines the set rather than the recipe.
Steady 15–18°C, dry, wrapped, away from smells, and not in the fridge. Steadiness matters more than coolness.
A small amount of water turned it into a stiff paste. It cannot be returned to melted chocolate — but adding much more liquid rescues it as something else.
Gritty with a burnt smell. Unrecoverable, and it happens at far lower temperatures than most people expect.
Three causes, and two of them are materials problems rather than technique ones.
Usually over-crystallisation or the wrong material — and the one thing not to do is add water.
Almost always temperature. Chocolate above working range is fluid because it is out of temper, not because it needs thickening.
Safe to eat, and the two kinds have different causes. Touch it: smooth and greasy is fat, rough and gritty is sugar.
Getting an even, thin, glossy layer over something. Almost entirely a materials question rather than a technique one.
Set ganache, shaped and coated. The ratio determines whether it can be rolled, and the ratio changes with the chocolate.
The thick European and Latin American styles. The texture comes from starch, not from more chocolate.
Shell, fill, cap. Three tempered-chocolate operations in sequence, and the filling has to be at the right temperature for all of them.
Getting flavour in without getting water in. Infuse the cream, use oil-based flavourings, or steep into the fat.
A pourable coating that sets glossy. Gelatine or glucose does the shine; the chocolate does the flavour.
Four bars, one variable, room temperature. The comparison teaches, not the individual bars.
Gentle, even, controllable — and the method most likely to introduce the one thing that ruins chocolate.
Faster and safer than its reputation, provided you stop early — chocolate holds its shape long after it has melted.
The first stage of tempering rather than a technique of its own, and it has a requirement ordinary melting does not: every crystal must go.
Three ceilings, one per chocolate type, and a change that cannot be undone once passed.
The reliable home method: melt most of it, stir in the rest, and let the solid chocolate's existing crystals template the melt.
The classical method: work two-thirds of the melt on a cool stone until it thickens, then recombine. Faster at volume, messier at home.
The reference curve — 45–50°C, down to 27–28°C, back up to 31–32°C — and the most forgiving of the three.
Every temperature a degree or two below dark, because milk fat softens the set and interferes with crystallisation.
The lowest temperatures of the three and the least forgiving, because there are no cocoa solids to buffer the sugar and milk.
Three minutes and a strip of paper, before you commit a batch. The single most useful habit in chocolate work.
Tempered chocolate cools and thickens continuously. Managing that is the difference between the first piece and the twentieth matching.
A soft ganache cooled and then whipped to hold air. Lighter than ganache, more stable than mousse, and the ratio is the whole trick.
Nuts caramelised in sugar and ground to a paste. The caramelisation is the flavour and the grinding is the work.
Coating a firm centre with a dipping fork. Slower than a machine, identical in result, and the fork technique is most of it.
Printed cocoa butter on acetate, transferred onto chocolate as it sets. The cheapest route to a professional finish there is.
Building a chocolate shell on a centre in many thin layers, rotated until smooth. What makes a dragée a dragée.
Tempered chocolate poured thin, scattered with toppings, broken when set. The most forgiving chocolate project there is.
Shells formed in paper or silicone cases rather than polycarbonate moulds. The accessible route to a filled chocolate.
Chips are engineered not to melt. That is the point of them, and the reason they are wrong for half the recipes that call for them.
The opposite choice to chips: pools, seams and shards rather than discrete pieces. Usually the better-tasting one.
The most efficient way to make something taste strongly of chocolate — and the ingredient that decides which leavening the recipe needs.
Cocoa powder for depth of flavour, melted chocolate for richness and density. Most good cakes use both.
The bake where percentage matters most, because chocolate is a large share of the total mass.
One decision decides everything: pools or pieces. Chips hold their shape, chopped bar does not.
Body comes from cocoa butter, which is why powder-based drinks taste thin however much you use.
Quantities scale linearly. Times, temperatures and pan depths do not, and that is where scaled recipes fail.
A machine does not temper better than a hand does. It holds the result indefinitely, which is a logistics advantage rather than a quality one.
Six numbers govern almost everything: three melting ceilings and three working windows. Most chocolate failures are one of them being missed.
A temperature window a few degrees wide. Too cold and it shatters, too warm and it smears, and the bar in your hand is usually about right.
The easier sibling of curls, and the one where cold chocolate is an advantage rather than a problem.
The best appearance-to-effort ratio in chocolate decoration. Spread thin, set, break.
Fine decoration from a paper cornet. Pipe thicker than looks right, because thin filigree snaps when peeled.
The source of every mirror-finish coloured bonbon. It is tempered cocoa butter, and it fails for the same reasons chocolate does.
The suede texture on a professional entremet. It is chocolate and cocoa butter sprayed onto something frozen, and it needs equipment a home kitchen does not have.
Match the effort to the dessert. A garnish that outshines what it sits on has failed at its job.
Piped discs with four toppings. The restraint is the technique — a fifth topping turns it into bark on a small disc.
Stir, spoon, set. The most forgiving confection there is, and the ratio of filling to chocolate is the only judgement.
A sugar cook with chocolate added at the end. The temperature the caramel reaches decides whether it pours, chews or snaps.
A ganache thinned to stay fluid over heat. Not tempered, not meant to set, and it fails when treated as melted chocolate.
A ganache set in a pastry case. It needs to cut cleanly and stay soft in the mouth, which pulls the ratio in two directions.
A deliberately under-baked sponge. The liquid centre is timing, not a separate sauce, and the margin is about a minute.
Needs more chocolate than seems reasonable, because cold suppresses aroma — and the fat makes it set harder than a vanilla base.
Melt and use. No tempering, no temperature windows, and a waxy mouthfeel that is the price of all that.
Temper properly and store at a stable temperature. Stability matters more than the number.
Filled chocolates keep for days to weeks depending entirely on the filling, not on the shell.
Cocoa butter absorbs whatever it is stored beside. The wrapper is doing more work than it looks.
Three temperatures on one plate is the point. Chocolate is the component most damaged by being served cold.
Bloom is cosmetic. Melting removes it entirely, which makes bloomed chocolate perfectly good for anything that gets melted.
Dairy-free, sugar-free and nut-free each change the technique as well as the ingredient, and none of the substitutions is neutral.
Above about 26°C ambient, tempering is not viable and no technique changes that. What changes is what you make.
Polycarbonate moulds are never washed with detergent. One dishwasher cycle destroys the finish permanently.
A probe thermometer and a bowl. Everything beyond that buys convenience rather than capability, with two exceptions.
Seeding done entirely in the microwave. Genuinely works, needs more stirring than seems reasonable, and fails the moment you stop checking.
Two routes when there is no tempered chocolate to seed with: table it on a cold surface, or use cocoa butter powder as the seed instead.
Two halves joined, or one shell spun. Both need thicker walls than seem necessary, because a thin hollow shell cannot be unmoulded intact.
A pump that cannot handle ordinary chocolate. Thinning it is not optional, and the usual thinner is the wrong one.
Thick enough to coat a spoon, set with starch rather than with cream, and made to be dipped into rather than drunk.
Thickened, served in small volumes, and finished with cream on top rather than stirred through — a café product rather than a mug of cocoa.
A ganache set in a tray, cut cold into cubes and dusted — the simplest confection in this catalogue and the least forgiving about temperature.
Replacing cream means replacing fat and water in a fixed relationship — which is why plant milks fail and plant creams work.