HOW THE WEKIVA CHOCOLATE FACTORY CAME TO BE
Years ago, I decided to do something a little unusual with my culinary students at Wekiva High School. I wanted to teach them how to make real chocolate. Not melt commercially manufactured chocolate into molds or dip strawberries into it, but actually take cacao beans, roast them, grind them, refine and conch the chocolate, and turn it into finished candy.
There was just one small problem. I didn’t have the equipment, the money, or an existing curriculum to teach any of it. So I went looking for all three.
I researched chocolate manufacturing, studied the science, developed the lessons, and figured out how to bring a process normally associated with professional chocolate manufacturers into a high school culinary classroom. I built the curriculum myself, from scratch, and then went looking for people willing to help me make it happen. I applied for funding, made my case, and did a fair amount of begging. Eventually, Duke Energy awarded me a $5,000 STEM grant, which allowed me to purchase much of the specialized equipment I needed. I also secured the support of CACAO International, whose owner and president generously donated a tremendous amount of supplies to help get the project off the ground.
The students and I decided to call it the Wekiva Chocolate Factory and they worked with me to figure out the process: how to manufacture chocolate from scratch, turn it into candy, and sell what we made. It was part culinary education, part food science laboratory, and part small business. Very few high school culinary programs have the equipment or curriculum to manufacture chocolate from the bean, and the process isn’t routinely taught even in postsecondary culinary schools. Most culinary students learn to melt, temper, mold, and decorate chocolate that somebody else has already manufactured. I wanted my students to understand what happened before that chocolate ever reached the pastry kitchen.
Years later, I’m still using much of that original equipment, and I’m still teaching chocolate making. The student candy business is gone, but my reasons for teaching the subject have only grown stronger. And that brings me to why I think learning to make chocolate is worth your time.
WHY MAKE CHOCOLATE FROM SCRATCH?
First, chocolate is one of those rare foods where the equipment available to a serious home cook isn’t all that different from what a professional pastry chef might use. Commercial manufacturers have enormous machines capable of producing thousands of pounds at a time, but the fundamental work can be done with equipment that is increasingly accessible to the rest of us. A good scale, accurate thermometer, stone grinder, some molds, and a little patience can take you surprisingly far. You don’t need to own a chocolate factory to make excellent chocolate.
Second, chocolate is an extraordinary opportunity to study food science in action. And that’s really the heart of this project.
Chocolate is a surprisingly complicated food. Its characteristic flavors depend on genetics, geography, fermentation, roasting, and an astonishing collection of chemical reactions. Its texture depends on how finely we grind solid particles and how we distribute them through fat. Its beautiful shine and satisfying snap depend on persuading cocoa butter to form the right kinds of crystals. Even a few drops of water, added at the wrong moment, can turn perfectly smooth melted chocolate into an ugly, stubborn lump.
And that’s before we start making candy.
Making good chocolate requires knowledge, precision, patience, and an understanding of why things happen. It’s an excellent way to teach students to approach cooking as both a craft and a science. Recipes become more than lists of instructions when you understand what each ingredient contributes, what each step accomplishes, and what happens when something goes wrong.
There’s another reason I keep teaching it: most people have absolutely no idea how chocolate is made.
They know how to melt chocolate. They know how to bake with it. They may even know how to make truffles or dip strawberries. But turning cocoa nibs into smooth, delicious chocolate is an entirely different proposition. Watching those gritty little pieces slowly become a flowing mass of chocolate is remarkable, even when you’ve seen it happen dozens of times.
And if you came here hoping to whip up a chocolate bar in twenty minutes and eat it before lunch, I have some disappointing news: this takes a while. The good news is that the work is fascinating, and the results can be extraordinary.
HOW WE’RE GOING TO STUDY CHOCOLATE
I’ve organized this study into nine connected lessons, each exploring a different part of chocolate’s story. We’ll begin with the history of chocolate and a batch of Mexican hot chocolate, then investigate the chemistry of candy flavor, the journey from cacao bean to couverture, and the decisions chocolate makers make when creating their formulas.
Along the way, we’ll explore crystallization by making old-fashioned fudge, learn why tempering chocolate can drive otherwise reasonable cooks slightly crazy, and make our own milk and white chocolate from scratch.
Then we’ll put that chocolate to work. We’ll mold chocolate bars, make a chocolate–hazelnut gianduja gelato, and finish with the techniques of fine chocolatiers and a batch of filled bonbons.
There’s plenty of history, too. We’ll encounter the ancient cultures that first developed chocolate, the European inventors who transformed it, Milton Hershey’s chocolate empire, the American candy-bar wars, and the craftspeople who turned chocolate into a luxury product.
I won’t promise that everything will work perfectly the first time. It probably won’t. Chocolate has an impressive ability to punish sloppy technique, and even experienced pastry chefs occasionally find themselves staring at a bowl of something that isn’t behaving as expected. But that’s part of learning to cook well. Follow the process. Pay attention to what’s happening. Understand the science. Learn to recognize the difference between a good result and a bad one—and, more importantly, understand why.
By the time we’re finished, you’ll know considerably more about chocolate than most people who eat it every day. You’ll also have a few new skills, a better appreciation for the science behind the food we cook, and, with any luck, some pretty remarkable chocolate to show for your efforts.