Death by Chocolate Curls

Chocolate curls are an art form I’ve yet to perfect. My sister asked for “that layered nut cake you made before” and I obliged. Tuning into my psychic abilities, I decided she meant Hazelnut Mocha Torte and not Pecan Orange Dacquoise.

Because the cake and filling instructions were straight forward, I was lulled into a false sense of security. So when the cookbook blithely said, “Arrange chocolate curls on top of cake,” I assumed the effort required would be equivalent to sprinkling the torte with icing sugar.

With the cake and filling assembled without incident, I launched into the curls optimistically, using the old vegetable peeler trick. It sounded easy enough. Apparently, the secret was warming the chocolate to the right temperature. The book, a tried-and-true Canadian Living classic, suggested microwaving a 1-ounce square on high for 30 seconds. I guess technology has changed a lot in the 16 years since the book was published. This burst of nuking melted the outside and left a mess on my hands. The first pass of the peeler produced a ripple, which stuck to the blades. Subsequent passes left flakes on the counter and a thin blue haze in the air.

Onto Plan B — the baking sheet method. This required 4-ounces of chocolate, melted and spread thinly over a clean cookie sheet. The instructions said the chocolate should be spread evenly with a palette knife to less than 1/8″ thick. I had no palette knife and no idea how to measure the chocolate, so I used a scraper and common sense. We shall ignore the fact that common sense would have vetoed chocolate curls in the first place.

After chilling the pan for five minutes in the fridge, I had a 30-second window of opportunity to curl the chocolate. When the chocolate began to wave, not roll, I popped the sheet back in the fridge. The cycle — make a curl, refrigerate a few minutes, make a curl — continued until the cake was covered and my patience worn thinner than the decorations I was trying to control. In the end, the curls added calories and an extra hour of work to the cake. Was it worth it?

Hmmm. It kinda looks like a log jam on the Fraser River. I’m waiting for a lumberjack to come clear it.

If viewed from a distance and in low light conditions, it wasn’t bad for a first attempt. Of course, it tasted fine, but I’m not about to do this again without a serious bribe.

And the death part? When presented with the cake, my sister informed me she asked for a nut cake because she wanted to avoid chocolate.

I guess my psychic abilities rank right up there with my chocolate rolling skills.