I’m working on creating a bean-to-bar chocolate-making business, and I’m excited to finally be launching the website.  It’s still quite bare, but what’s there is all genuine, straight-from-the-heart content, which I think is a natural lead-in to making genuine, right-from-the-bean chocolate.

I hope to start having samples available in early 2011.  Go to the site and take the survey or just sign up to hear when beta testing begins.

The Flatlander Fund Auction happens on December 9th, where the remaining bars of chocolate that Dan made will be auctioned off, along with many fabulous items donated by local (and not-so-local) businesses.  Read all about the items up for bid on the Flatlander Fund site.  I’m going to be in charge of putting together trays of passed appetizers that evening made with some food generously donated by excellent local businesses, including Prairie Fruits Farm, Sweet Indulgence, and World Harvest. They probably won’t last all night, so come early and bid often!

On a more personal note, I’ve grown the courage to embark on a journey of exploration, innovation, and much degustation.  You’ve read (many times by now) of my fondness for Dan’s chocolate, and how inspiring he was to me.  I want to take that inspiration and focus it on re-starting bean-to-bar chocolate making in Central Illinois.

I’m planning on taking the same first steps that Dan did, starting with small equipment, building my own skills as my portfolio of creations grows.  I plan on offering “beta test” chocolate through various venues, and I hope to make my way up the ranks to being a part of the Farmers’ Market by next summer.

Since I really owe so much of this to Dan, and because it’s a cause I believe in, I plan on donating a portion of all profits to the Flatlander Fund, and I’m thinking about offering a special “Dan” bar or “Flatlander” bar where much more goes to the Fund.

I don’t quite have a name picked out (suggestions welcome!), and I’m still in the process of finding what equipment I’m going to be starting out with, but I am really excited to start this journey.

If you want to be among the first to hear about this as it develops, and/or want an opportunity to become a beta tester, fill out this Google Docs form.  Thanks!

If you were inspired by Dan or someone else, or feel inspired after reading this post, read about the Flatlander Fund.  The Flatlander Fund was set up in memory of Dan to perpetuate his dream, a shared wish, that Champaign-Urbana can have a community kitchen where food skills and love can be shared, and young entrepreneurs can have a chance to start their own journey.

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I first came into contact with Dan when he emailed me out of the blue, on July 2nd, 2009, asking if I’d be interested in writing about his Kickstarter project that he started to fund his chocolate making startup.  He wrote, “one of my passions is to make things by hand in traditional ways (for instance I ferment sauerkraut, and knit my own winter gear).”  I wrote back with a few questions that ended up helping me flesh out my first post mentioning Dan, titled Theobroma Cacao.

Needless to say, his project was fully funded and he quickly began work on his first batches.  I think he let me try a little of pretty much every one of his first batches.  Some were ugly, just dry chocolate bits that fell apart.  He tried roasting hotter, cooler, longer, shorter.  He tried different cacao origins and he made me love chocolate.  That was his talent, he would suck you in and educate you about it before you knew what was happening.  Dan taught me how to truly appreciate chocolate.

Once he had his process down a little better, I asked to come by and photograph and take video of him making chocolate.  He seemed excited to have me come to his tiny kitchen on the upper floor of the apartment he was living in.  He told me about how he transforms the raw cacao into cracked and winnowed nibs, ready to be ground.  I watched the chocolate spinning around in the grinding machine he purchased with part of the Kickstarter funds.

He tempered his chocolate on a reclaimed slab of marble while I shot video.  It was beautiful watching the chocolate flowing off the paddles he used to mix and fold the chocolate onto itself.  All the while we talked and he would explain how cocoa butter’s ability to form so many different crystalline structures is so remarkable and so vital to the chocolate-making process.

I met with Dan so many times in the courtyard between the computer science building (Siebel) and my own workplace.  He’d always ask what I’ve been up to, and I never felt like I had a good-enough answer for him.  His passion was infectious and he greatly inspired me to follow my own dreams.  As he gained notoriety, the local newspaper published an article about him and the reporter asked me a few questions.  The first, which I don’t think I got quoted in the article for, was “Why is what Dan’s doing with chocolate important?”  I spent a long time answering that question for the reporter, and I posted my response in a post titled “Why Dan Matters“.

Dan still matters, to me and many others, as an example of what a great artisan can be.  There are so many random wonderful things I could say about him–like his sauerkraut is the only kraut I’ve ever enjoyed, especially the one he added beets to for the inaugural 1000 year old food club event.  It’s hard to pare it down to make this a sensible and meaningful post for anyone else.  One last story, about one of those clandestine courtyard conversations we had…

We met and, as usual, Dan let me sample a bite or two of his latest batches.  He was already into the groove of making chocolate and had sold plenty of bars to friends and friends-of-friends.  I was already planning on buying a bar but he said he really wanted to make sure that he gave a personalized bar to everyone that had donated so long ago to his Kickstarter project.  He pulled out a bar with a mostly blank yellow construction paper wrapper and started writing, and drawing, and more writing, then declaring in all caps “for JASON BRECHIN!” with his signature underneath.  I’ve kept each and every one of my blank/DHS/Daniel Harry Schreiber/Flatlander wrappers, but this one is only mine. And now it’s on the web, to live forever.  Click the image to get the full size scan.

yogurt, miso porridge

Think about the foods you love and think about how they’re made.  If you’ve read Michael Pollan’s  you will already understand the difference between how modern versions of old foods like yogurt are different from what our (great-)grandparents ate.  Modern products labeled as yogurt are often made “yogurt-like” with additives that add texture or mouth-feel and flavored with artificial flavors and too much sugar.  Fat-free yogurt is a poor attempt at latching onto the public’s fear of fat, and doesn’t behave the same as the real thing.  Real yogurt, made from raw milk and natural bacterial cultures is good stuff.  There are even different types of cultures that can be used to make everything from watery to stiff yogurt to a slimy, mucus-y substance like the Nordic specialty, viili.  There’s a video showing what the texture is like… watch it if you dare.

chorizo (front L), salami (front R), sauerkraut (rear R)

The whole premise of this tasting event was to take a trip back a thousand years or so to taste foods made in traditional ways.  There was homemade miso, with some mixed into a porridge.  I really liked how the funky umami flavor of the miso dispersed into the creamy porridge.

There were two sauerkrauts on the table, provided by Dan H. Schreiber.  One was a plain cabbage sauerkraut (which I, regrettably, didn’t try) and another one made with mostly white cabbage but colored deeply with beets.  Sauerkraut is often made with unnecessary additives, rendering it much less healthful than the original fermented formulation of cabbage and salt.  Dan’s is all-natural and tasted fresh and still crunchy.  Sure it was sour from lactic fermentation, but it was a wonderful flavor unlike any sauerkraut I’ve had before.

The meats were, of course, provided by the masterful meat manipulator, Laurence, of This Little Piggy fame.  The chorizo was a solid interpretation of the Spanish cured meat, but the salami was my favorite.  I was told it was a fennel salami, but the peppercorns in it gave little bursts of peppery kick when you met one.  It’s the kind of salami I could munch on all night.

raw milk, scary!

Then there were the dairy products.  This is where the crazy regulators get all antsy in their seats just wishing they could barge in the door and tell us how un-pasteurized milk is dangerous stuff and pour bleach all over everything in sight.  Fortunately this is purchased directly from a farmer who cares about preserving the 1000 year old food that comes out of his cows’ udders.  I was able to advocate for raw milk that night, convincing another attendee that she could drink raw milk just fine, despite her lactose intolerance.  You see, raw milk still has all the stuff that is needed to digest it, including some bacteria and enzymes like lactase (which is what LI folks can’t produce enough of).  I was really happy with the milk, and will definitely be obtaining some in the future.

raw milk cheddar

The other delightfully raw dairy came in the form of a raw milk cheese made by the same aforementioned farmer.  It was a cheddar style, and was by no means a refined, commercial product.  I imagine this is cheese that he makes with extra milk he has for his family to enjoy.  With some age, maybe heavier salting, this could be great cheese.  As it was, it was amazingly light from lack of age, but the flavor of the milk was concentrated.

There are no pictures of it here, but there was a selection of Dan’s chocolate as well as a mint fudge prepared by his business partner, Bill.  If you haven’t heard, Dan is already in the process of finding the right equipment and the right space to start up his own micro- (nano-?) chocolate factory right here in Urbana.  He’s already started making certified (i.e. by the health department, so he can sell it in retail stores) chocolate, drawn up business plans, and by the time I’m writing this who knows what else he’s accomplished?  Keep an eye on his blog to find out all the latest.  Congrats Dan on all that you’ve accomplished so far, and all the success that is sure to come!

This event was “sponsored”, supported, and publicized by the newly resurrected Prairie Table organization.  Prairie Table plans on holding more events like these, tasting excellent locally available products, as well as many other community-building opportunities.  I am already involved with them and hope to be a part of bringing more local food opportunities to the community.  If you’re in the Central Illinois area and are interested in hearing more, go to the website and look around.

EDIT: Of course there are so many things that I’ve nearly forgotten, like home-brewed beer (the stout was tasty).  If anyone in attendance remembers something I didn’t, please let me know!

One of my adventures was to the Windy City with my wife and her friend since high school, Stephanie.  Stephanie lives in warm, sunny California, and wants everyone to move there.  Walking around Chicago with snow blowing everywhere, I wished for a moment that I was blessed with the warmth of the Golden State.

We drove downtown and found our way to the corner of Clark and Illinois, where Xoco is located.  If you’ve ever been to Bayless’s other restaurants, Frontera Grill or Topolobampo, Xoco (pronounced sho-ko, meaning “little sister”) is right on the corner of the same block.  Looking through the window you can see the preparation of chocolate and churros (see my earlier post on churros) for eager guests.

When you enter, the space looks very small, just enough for a small kitchen and a winding line to wait in before you order.  While waiting in line you can look at surreal images, like the one at right of children in a churro-cactus forest, or one of a woman riding a torta flying through the air (see that one in the gallery at the bottom of the post).  As you enter, there are only a few tables visible, but it turns out that there is another section of tables further back, but the total seating capacity is probably only 40.

We went in the mid-afternoon, around 3:30, since we wanted to be able to try the caldos (soups) that they start serving at 3PM.  There was already a line all the way to the door, which meant about 12 people in front of us, along with a handful of people standing near the door waiting for their carry-out order.  While in line, we saw the board displaying the numerous local farms that they source from.  This is a quick-service sandwich and soup place, but it’s still firmly rooted in Bayless’s strong commitment to supporting local farmers.  Our local Prairie Fruits Farm is listed as a source, along with Rick’s own family garden.

The ordering process got a little awkward as they handle carry-out orders separate from dine-in orders (but through the same register).  We had to wait for a table to open up before we could order.  Luckily, a table opened up just a moment after we were told to step aside.

We ordered heartily, including chips, sandwich, soup, dessert, and a delicious Goose Island beer.  You can serve yourself still or sparkling water from a pair of faucets as you leave the cash register.  We carried our water and beer and were escorted to our seats, a set of high stools at an interior counter.  It wasn’t the nicest view, but the other tables were filled.  Soon after we sat down, we got our appetizer of chips and guacamole.  We splurged for the pair of salsas for an extra buck.

The chips were fine, but nothing memorable.  The guacamole was good, nice and creamy with balanced flavors.  The salsas were great, but they are the same ones you can get in Frontera jars.  The biggest problem I had was the portion was way too small.  For $4 (5 with the salsas), I wanted more chips.

The tortas (sandwiches) and caldos (soups) are prepared to order in their small kitchen from fresh ingredients.  While in line, I saw the cooks tasting the food as they were prepping each order, which gave me high expectations for the results.  In our case, they really did deliver.

First is my wife’s torta cubana.  From the menu: “smoked Maple Creek pork loin and bacon, black beans, avocado, artisan Jack, chipotle mustard”.  I tried a bite and it was very tasty, and held together well as a sort of torta-meets-panini creation.  For $11, I don’t know if it would have filled me up, but my wife loved it.

Stephanie got what I would have had if I didn’t get the soup–the torta ahogada.  This “drowned” sandwich has “golden pork carnitas, black beans, tomato broth, spicy arbol chile sauce, pickled onions”.  I wanted to steal this sandwich, but opted only for a bite.  The carnitas were cooked and seasoned perfectly (maybe could have been crisped a bit more).  The brothy sauce at the bottom of the bowl can be ordered as mild or spicy as you like, and it is the perfect foil for the torta’s extra crunchy bread.  I did my own take on this sandwich after we returned home from the holidays, but that post will have to wait for now.

I had the pork belly vermicelli soup.  The menu says “crispy-tender pork belly, toasty-tender noodles, woodland mushrooms, zucchini, avocado, salsa negra”.  If that’s not a close enough look, here’s a spoonful of pork belly with the noodles, fideos, it’s hiding.

This was simply amazing.  The soup stock  had a depth of flavor I haven’t had in any other quick-service restaurant soups.  It had the mouthfeel of a long-simmered stock, almost thick and chewy, but it still tasted fresh and vibrant.  I didn’t see any salsa negra, so I assume it was the source of the sesame seeds floating in the broth as well as the spicy kick it contained.

The pork belly itself was thick and meaty, cooked until tender, and browned enough on the outside that it still held up to a little chewing instead of dissolving into so many porky threads in the soup.  The noodles were alright, sort of like a rustic spaghetti.  They added to the bulk of the soup, but I would have been just as happy if they weren’t there.  The vegetables offered nice variation in each bite, and each offered a flavor and texture that the soup needed.  The avocado was cool and creamy, the zucchini still tender-crisp and bright, and the mushrooms were dark and deliciously chewy.  The arugula on top wilted into the soup and performed as a slippery sidekick as it draped itself on many of my bites.  For $12, this soup is a meal that should not be passed up.  I would have loved a bit of one of their toasted bolillos to dip and crunch on as I ate.  Maybe Rick will read this and add it as an option al lado.

We all gorged ourselves on our main dishes, accompanied by Goose Island Matilda, a Belgian-style beer brewed in Chicago.  It was an expensive 22 oz. bottle ($13), but shared among three people, it paired perfectly with the rich food.

Of course, with the fresh chocolate being made here, we couldn’t pass up dessert.  We were given the option to order chocolate and churros with our meal and they would serve them to us later after we finished our food.

The pacing at the end of the meal was the low point.  As we were finishing, a couple staff members checked if we had ordered chocolate or churros.  After being left with nothing in front of us for what felt like forever, a plate of three churros arrived.

They are, dare I say, perfect churros.  Crispy, soft, light, warm, coated liberally with sugar, cinnamon, and ground cacao.  I could have eaten a dozen of these, even after the huge portion of soup.  What I wanted, though, was my chocolate in which to dip it.  I ate slowly, bite by bite, savoring each bit of the churro, but no chocolate arrived.  Finally we saw the chocolate man come with his tray of dark cacao goodness.

No table-side preparation, really, just pouring already-prepared chocolate into mugs.  There is a wide array of choices on how you want your chocolate prepared.  We tried three different choices, the authentic, made with water, the classic with 2% milk, and the almendrado, made with almond milk.

The chocolate was good, and had all the fresh vibrant flavor you’d expect from Bayless’s bean-to-cup operation.  If you click through the gallery of photos at the bottom of the post, you’ll see pictures of their chocolate grinding away in the same machine that local chocolate maker, Dan Schreiber, uses.  The almendrado, made with almond milk, was perfect for my wife, who loves chocolate and almonds.  The main difference between the authentic (water) and the classic (2% milk) is the milk tempers the bright flavors of the ultra-fresh chocolate.  Neither is “better”, just different.  My only disappointment was the portion, which seemed undersized for the mugs they serve it in.  The photo above is before drinking any, and it shows that my mug was only about 2/3 full.

Overall I HIGHLY recommend Xoco.  Try everything you can and bring your friends.

If you haven’t entered the Taza chocolate contest, do so now.  The entry deadline is now this Saturday, January 9, at noon Central time.  The winner will be announced shortly after.

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