FRY YOUR CHOCOLATE

In six years of elementary-school French I learned how to ask the hard questions (Puis-je tailler mon crayon?), developed a healthy fear of the villain in Muzzie (Bon Jour, Je M'apelle Muzzie!) and fantasised constantly and misguidedly about setting my French babysitter up with my French teacher--they both spoke the language of love, after all.

Our fetes to celebrate the holidays featured traditional French party fare, such as literal pain au chocolat: baguettes lined with dark chocolate squares toasted in the teachers' lounge. Some of my earliest and most visceral food memories come from these classes. The crunch of toasted, burnt-edged bread, the velvety softness of the hot chocolate (cue music for amorous chocolate-sandwich eating).

Like most young Americans abroad, I was thrilled to "discover" Nutella. Like the internet or a new country, it was there all along, but suddenly life-transforming. Nutella on toast meant my own pain au chocolat--sometimes even for breakfast. Magnifique! 

But then I discovered something that changed everything. Late one night on TV Giada de Laurentiis, a cleavagey but soothing Food Network chef, was making something with her mother. "Oh mom," she tinkled, "You're overfilling your wonton wrapper--that's too much Nutella!" What? She was doing what? This lady was filling wonton wrappers with Nutella and then frying them and calling them dessert ravioli. Whoah. I wanted to try.

There were challenges. My own mother was not interested in being a bumbling sous chef, and I happen to hate American Nutella. (I won't bore you with the "too much sugar, corn syrup, hydrogenated oil" business, but our Nutella holds ingredients that are frightening.) But I found a Nutella recipe on Su Good Sweets, a healthy dessert blog, discovered some leftover wonton wrappers, and rounded up some friends (from elementary school, in fact--Merci Monsieur Kelleher!).

When making your own Nutella, don't skip the first step: the nuts need to be naked, or at least mostly so, as the skins are bitter. To grind them you really need a good food processor, and patience. After that it's a snap. We added more cocoa and reduced the sugar, and added a splash of oil to get the consistency right.

We folded the mixture into wontons via Giada's instructions, wetting the edges to seal them shut. We then placed them into two inches of hot oil in a cleaned hot wok (careful of splatters), turning them over until they turned lightly browned, which takes about a minute. Add a little powdered sugar and voila! A speedy dessert miracle, light, crunchy and filled with warm chocolate. It's like eating the love-child of a Ferrero-Rocher, a spring roll and a zeppole at the fair. Some claim the effect can also be achieved in an oven, though I'm sceptical.

After further experimentation, I do not recommend filling wonton wrappers with straight peanut butter as you will produce something that tastes like a deep fried power bar. Same goes with preserves, which turns out to be a sure way to get a tongue burn. Though opportunities abound: macadamias instead of hazelnuts? Chopped nuts for crunch? A mango mascarpone filling (steamed, not fried)? Perhaps different shapes, like airplanes, sailboats, hats. . .

Make your own Nutella. It's as delicious as your tastiest memories of French class. Bon appetit!

Picture Credit: Geishabot (via Flickr)

FOOD & DRINK  

Comments

A million thumbs up


Ooh! That's like all the good parts of dessert (gooey filling, crispy fried bits) without all the bad parts (dry crust, bland cake). Too bad it doesn't work well with peanut butter or preserves (PB&J ravioli would make an excellent lunch), but as soon as I can get ahold of some hazelnuts, I'm gonna grind out some homemade Nutella, stat.