When asked the question, “Would you be able to take part in judging for the Academy of Chocolate Awards,” the only response, really, has to be: “Do bears take dumps in the woods?”
I’m better known for my association with campylobacter than cocoa beans, but in a former life I ran the Good Housekeeping Institute and I am currently a judge for the Great Taste Awards, so my palate is used to identifying and appreciating nuanced flavours.
Having said that, I’m Scottish, and sugar and fat are the major components of my DNA. As a child I guzzled on cheap, sweet, lowbrow bars (a Fry’s cream bar was posh), and mass market is still my default preference: a Kit-Kat or Crunchie will always win over a single estate organic bean-to-bar from the eastern slopes of the Andes. But hey, who am I to turn down an invitation to spend an afternoon indulging in the likes of Akesson’s Madagascar 75% Criollo Cacao, or Duffy’s Guatemala Rio Dulce 70%?
Not that I or any of my fellow judges can identify what we are tasting — it’s all done blind in a room; each plateful of contenders, rich with cocoa butter, brought to the judging tables, identified by only a code number.
As tempting as it might be, it’s really not on to dive in and scarf down the offerings: first you have to examine the appearance (it should be flawless with no cracks, air pockets, streaks or bloom); then take a piece and sniff (sweetly fragrant but not overpowering wanted here. Any vanilla, red berry, citrus, roasted nuts?); the touch (should be silky but not sticky, and begin to yield to the warmth of your fingers); the “snap” (clean, or crumbly — not good); then — and only then — can the piece actually be allowed to advance, mindfully and resolutely, to the lips. Now we’re looking for a smooth and buttery feel, gently dissolving into a creamy liquid, complex in flavours. Only at this stage is the actual taste considered! The overall experience here should be “harmonious with no bitter or astringent notes fighting in the mouth”. Then it’s the finish (ought to be lingering, with a clean aftertaste and no residue).
The judging process is spread over several days, and comprises numerous specialist categories: eg dark bean to bar over (and under) 80%, bean to bar milk over 45%, flavoured dark chocolate bar, flavoured milk chocolate bar, flavoured white chocolate bar, filled chocolates — including alcohol ganache, fruit ganache, herb ganache. How anyone has the will or capacity to judge for more than a day at a time is beyond me.
Am I the only person on the planet who doesn’t appreciate salted caramel? Salt I adore, caramel too, but together they don’t do it for me at all. However, there was a chocolate with an ultra-silky caramel filling that had the most subtle, barely discernible addition of ... soy sauce. Everyone at my table loved it. More of what we loved, in the form of the winners’ list, is available on the academyofchocolate.org.uk.
By the end of the afternoon, I calculated I’d swallowed at least 52 bites of filled chocolates. My tastebuds — indeed, my complete sensory system — were shot to pieces. I was bouncing off the ceiling on theobromine (found in cocoa beans, with a similar effect to caffeine), suffering a thumper of a headache, felt nauseous and was desperate for ... a massive plate of deep-fried chips. Sprinkled with a tonne of salt.
— Guardian News & Media Ltd
