In early May I was afforded the rare opportunity to vist the Rizek cacao plantations near San Francisco de Macoris in the Dominican Republic. The Rizek family remains one of the largest producers of cacao in the DR. A small group of us pastry chefs were hosted by Michel Cluizel; Cluizel was among the first to produce and market a single-estate couverture, Los Ancones, named for the Rizek plantation where the cacao is sourced. We, of course, visited Los Ancones, as well as the adjacent La Esmeralda estate, which is also certified organic.
What follows is a very brief journey- just a handful of a few hundred images- tracing chocolate from plant to finished bar. I'll do my best to share some of the details, though I admit a lot of the technical stuff is already starting to fade from memory.
Cacao beans- clones of spefic varities- allowed to germinate.
Described to us as the 'new wave' of cacao agriculture, those clones are allowed to mature into seedlings, then grafted onto generic rootstock- much like varietal grape vines destined for fine wine.
Before we set out into the plantation proper, each of us were given a seedling of our own to plant. Something tells me they were dug up sometime later. But I guess technically, there's a young tree out there with my name on it.
The great majority of the photos I snapped resemble this one; that is, for the first few hours in the field, every pod was a revelation. It's difficult not to imagine all the possibilities that lie in store for the 50 or so precious beans that are developing within the pods. Undoubtedly most curious to the outsider, is how the pods emerge directly from the trunk and larger branches- from within a foot from the ground up to 10 feet up or more.
The trees typically see two harvest cycles each year. The pods we saw were nearing maturity, whereas the next cycle was already beginning with these delicate flower buds. When the pods are eventually harvested- with a swift pass of the machete- care must be taken not to damage the stem. If removed incorrectly, flowers will never properly develop, and that spot on the tree will no longer bear fruit.
The productive lifespan of the cacao tree is relatively short. In most other growing regions, trees are removed and replaced entirely. The trees in La Esmeralda are considerably older, many approaching 20 years. Though the yield may be lower, the emphasis is on the higher quality the trees produce.
A close-up of the stem end pf the pods. Many of the trees are coated with a carpet of moss- perhaps in part due to their age. But the trees require fairly constant levels of both humidity and temperature. Not only is there considerable cover crop to provide shade, but Los Ancones is unique in that the estate rests upon a network of underground streams.
Here is a freshly harvested pod split open.
The sticky white pulp is surprisingly fruity and acidic- I liken the flavor to that of lychee. It is extremely sensitive and begins oxidizing and fermenting within a few minutes.
A single bean, encased in pulp. The bean itself at this stage is pretty much tasteless- a little bitter and gritty.
The bulk of the harvest goes through a mechanical separation of the pulp from the pod. The same machine chops up the spent pod, which in turn becomes rich compost for the plantation. Remember, this estate uses organic practices. It must also be noted that this compost is added to an already thick and crunchy layer of natural leaf loss thoughout the fields.
Perhaps the most crucial stage of production happens as the beans undergo fermentation. This time is often dictated by the clients who will buy the beans, whose specs will ultimately determine the end flavor characteristics. Surprisingly, we were told there are a few clients who request little to no fermentation at all- I believe they refer to these beans as sanchez- these beans will lack a significant amount of complexity. What was amazing was both the smell coming off these boxes- a little sour, a lot alcoholic, but also the first signs of deep cocoa aroma- as well as the heat generated by the fermentation.
Each bin is closely monitored and turned regularly; each step of the fermentation is recorded on these strips of tape.
This is a bean that has already undergone three to four days of fermentation.
After fermentation, the beans must undergo a drying process to reduce the moisture to somewhere- if I recall- around 5-6%. These old school sheds are a common site throughout the region- the beans are raked on wooden slats; the 'roofs'- receded here- are on a track allowing ultimate control and exposure to the elements. Note the donkey just sort of hanging out on the left.
Drying beans.
The newer design of drying sheds, allowing ample sun exposure and air flow with maximum protection from the elements. Note the coloration of two different lots of beans from front to back.
A bean nearing the completion of drying- its moisture content is still around 9-10%.
Before seeing the contemporary method of chocolate production, we made some the traditional way, pounding roasted nibs and sugar in a mortar/pestle fashion. The pilon here was created from a hollowed-out tree trunk.
A close-up of the resulting paste. Note the sugar crystals that remain. Typically, this paste would have been rolled into balls, allowed to firm up (the friction obviously liquifies the cocoa butter to some degree) and grated as needed. This would later serve as inspiration for our dessert the following day.
The wooden clubs used to pound the cocoa paste.
Under normal circumstances, of course, the dried beans are shipped to the manufacturer for roasting, but Rizek produces a very small quantity of couverture for their own use onsite in the lab at La Esmeralda. This small roaster has a capacity of about 2 kilograms of dried beans.
For some reason, the temperature range surprised me.
After roasting, the beans go through a grinder that separates the nibs from the thin shell and undesirable germ. It's not until this point that the process produces anything that might be familiar to most people- tiny, uniform nibs.
The nibs and sugar are combined and then ground further before processing on the mill. Here, the mixture repeatedly passes through rollers, calibrated progressively finer to reduce the particle size to somewhere below our physical threshold of perception- about 20 microns. If I recall, the end result they were looking for was in the neighborhood of 15 microns.
Within minutes, we'd seen the transformation from whole bean to fragrant paste.
It's often at this stage that additional cocoa butter is added, and the chocolate sees time in the conching machine. This continuous 'kneading' of the chocolate enhances the texture, but also releases unwanted volatile aromatic components. I'm certainly no expert, but it's generally been understood that longer is better with regard to conching (you'll often hear claims of 48-72 hours). In recent years I think there's been emerging debate and discussion on the benefits of less.
As with fermentation, there's a considerable amount of heat produced from conching. And the smell is amazing.
The final stage in the process is obviously tempering, where conditions are created to produce the one desirable crystal formation of the cocoa butter.
This second machine- basically a big wheel drawing milk chocolate from a basin below- sat alongside the more modern tempering unit. Though unreliable in actual production, it's kept in the lab for aesthetic value. We all agreed that it did look pretty cool!
By the end of the day, our hosts issued a challenge to create a dessert not only inspired by the plantation, but also each phase of the product itself from bean to bar. All of the mental notes I'd been taking over the previous day or two immediately gelled into a conceptual homage to both chocolate and a sense of place. I'd seen cashews being sold in the streets, we'd been been served young coconut just hours before at lunch, and a large mango tree stood just outside the lab...
Components included handmade cocoa paste with cashews, young coconut, green mango, ripe mango agar pearls, roasted nibs, fresh beans and pulp right from the pod, lime, goat's milk caramel, and chocolate garnish directly from the production line.
Sebastien taking a picture of me taking a picture of him...
No matter how much I thought I knew from reading about the process over the years, there's simply no substitute for seeing it all firsthand, tasting the product along the way, and perhaps most importantly, meeting the people who make each step possible.
The group of us from NYC that made the trip recently met for a follow-up at the Cluizel shop on Fifth Avenue. Some of us have already implemented inspiration garnered from the experience; as for me, I think I'm still processing it all. As cheesy as it sounds, I certainly look at chocolate differently than I had prior...
