Passionfruit Butter

This post is part three of my dissertation on the tasting Sucré hosted at its mid-city kitchen a couple weeks ago. Click here for Part I: The Entremets or here for Part II: The Macaroons.

It’s no mistake that I’ve been putting off my entry on the chocolates for the end of this series. People always say, save the best for last – and while I personally believe that we’d all be better off (emotionally if not nutrionally) if we ate dessert before dinner, this was one instance where I thought it was fitting to save the most intricate, colorful installment for the end. As some of you know, I visit Sucré obsessively; I even wrote my college essay on the utmost significance of the box of chocolates I buy there every month. These chocolates are so exquisitely crafted that I doubt it’ll be that hard for you to understand the importance of these little bonbons, even if you’ve never been lucky enough to taste them.

These guys don’t make it into regular rotation for my routine box, but it’s not for a lack of quality. Within that glossy dome of a shell is a thick center of dark chocolate ganache infused with absinthe, lending a licorice flavor to the chocolate that seems off to me. As I said, it’s not the fault of the chocolate; it’s simply that I am now and always will be a bit wary of licorice. That’s just the way it is. Of course, as an intrepid taster, I felt it was my duty to take a nibble of everything, and I was glad I at least got the opportunity to taste this one; it’s a rich, smooth flavor, and the absinthe provides a nice, unexpected twist. Plus the green color that glows radiantly from the inside of the shell is appealing in a science-fiction kind of way.

I have to admit, the first time I tried this chocolate, I wasn’t expecting the thyme flavor, so after I swallowed my first bite, I blurted: “Oh my god, it tastes like a meatball!” The thyme flavor is secondary to the dark chocolate flavor, but it’s definitely a key flavor, and it’s unmistakable. That said, this is one of Sucré’s bestsellers – and, after eating it with the full awareness of all its ingredients, I understand why. Chocolate/thyme is an innovative combination that’s refreshingly savory and herbaceous in contrast with the rich, desserty dark chocolates and milk chocolate confections that are also on offer.

I am being completely serious when I tell you that this chocolate could be the most vile thing I’d ever ingested, and it would still have a chance at appearing in every single one of my monthly boxes. It just makes me so happy to look at. Luckily, it tastes as good as it looks. Coming from someone who meticulously avoids all other white chocolates, that is particularly good. This tiny piece of chocolate is the perfect encapsulation of classic wedding cake flavors; that multi-tiered couverture contains a thick white chocolate ganache with the distinct flavor of toasted almond. The balance of white chocolate and almond is perfectly harmonious, and the almond lends a pleasing depth of flavor, coaxing a buttery warmth from the white chocolate that’s usually lost in its fattiness and cloying sweetness. Then there’s the height of the chocolate, which means your teeth sink through the ganache for an eternity before hitting the hard bottom of the shell, which is nearly gritty in the best of ways.

For some reason, it took me a little while to get used to this one, though now I truly adore it and can’t get a box without at least one of these. I appreciate the sheer appearance of this one in a way similar to my appreciation of the Wedding Cake; the fleur de lis is a symbol of New Orleans, and the gold dusting makes it that much more luxe. Inside the dark chocolate outside is a white chocolate ganache that’s made special with a brown butter infusion (hence the name Meunière, a classic New Orleans sauce of brown butter that’s served at fixtures like Galatoire’s or Antonie’s, perhaps most notably in trout meunière amandine). What is there to say besides yum? This is so distinctly New Orleans.

And finally, there’s the Avery…

This is my favorite and also the favorite of many of Sucré’s regular patrons; one shopgirl told me that some come into the store and ask for a box of only Avery. When I was in the kitchen, I happened to see a deconstructed Avery, and I bore witness to the chocolate in the making. Here’s the metamorphosis of the Avery, captured in pictures:

A milk chocolate and caramel ganache, still hot from the stovetop, is folded and smoothed in a giant metal bowl.

Here’s a vat of the ganache. I love the way the spatula interrupts the smooth surface — just look at the indentation it makes to see how thick this stuff is.

Perfectly and glamorously swirled dollops of the milk chocolate caramel ganache are dropped onto coins of dark chocolate as they await enrobement.

The photography isn’t awesome because the photo was taken through a layer of Plexiglas, and my subjects were moving on a conveyor belt, rendering the macro feature virtually useless, but at least you can see the glossiness of the fresh, still wet dark chocolate that has been cascaded onto the little ganachey swirls. Because the focus is off, you can’t see it, but the swirl that you could see so clearly in the raw ganache is still pronounced. Now they’re off for the final step of the process.

Here it is, fresh from the conveyor belt, after a smattering of salt from the Avery salt mines here in Louisiana. This final step, in my opinion, is what sets the Avery head and shoulders above even the best of the other Sucré chocolates; it’s at once a shout-out to the classic combination of fleur de sel + caramel and a sweet bite that’s delightfully different from the other gelées and ganaches. Once this baby cools, it’ll be whisked to the cool marble counters of the Sucré storefront for your hedonistic pleasure.