Chocolate: The food of the Gods

The history

The first chocolate cultures flourished amid the steamy tropical forests of central America. From as early as 600BC the Mayans were grinding down the pods of the native cacao tree to create a sacred drink. The resulting brew - xocolatl or "bitter water" - is the etymological basis for what we know today in all its myriad forms as chocolate, even if we would scarcely recognise the taste. Appetite for the frothing cacao drinks spread steadily through the region, from the highlands to the jungles.

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The fashion of the time was to consume the cacao in a potion made pungent, at least to the modern palate, with chilli and other seasonings. The Aztecs took to the habit as readily as their neighbours, and chocolate became central to the Meso-American economy, where the bean was used as a currency. Celebrated in the hieroglyphs that adorned their temples, offered as "food of the gods" - it occupied a unique place in the societies of the ancients.

Even before the arrival of the Conquistadors, it had become the world's first luxury good. Christopher Columbus packed a sack of cacao beans in his hold for the amusement of his patrons, Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain. It didn't take off. The first commercial shipment did not arrive until nearly a century later, coming ashore at Seville in 1585. The Spanish preferred to drink their cacao mixed with sugar, cinnamon, nutmegs and cloves, and by now enterprising Spanish colonists were carving out plantations in the New World.

The English were less alive to the commercial potential of this new commodity. English privateers who captured a Spanish vessel set its cargo of beans alight, believing them to be cow dung. Once it had gained a foothold in Europe, the fashion for chocolate spread rapidly. One by one the notables of Paris, London, Rome, Zurich and Brussels fell under the spell of this strange and exotic brew. It spread back across the Atlantic to the colonies of Virginia.

In Europe, FL Cailler opened the first chocolate-drink factory in Switzerland in 1819. It was around this time that the first Easter eggs were developed yet it took an Englishman, Joseph Fry, to create the first chocolate bar in 1847. Industrial innovation slowly removed the bitterness - a Swiss candlemaker first added milk to the mix in 1875. The Meso-Americans, their cultures now devastated by the arrival of the Europeans, would scarcely have recognised the taste of their unique gift to the world.

The production

The cocoa beans are harvested from the pods and, together with their accompanying pulp, are left to ferment in bins for up to a week. They are then dried in the sun to prevent mould forming before they undergo roasting and grinding. After this the beans are pressed or heated until the cocoa butter separates from the intense chocolate liquor, which later dries to form a powder.

Following this separation, the two substances are reintroduced to each other, along with varying quantities of sugar, milk, milk powder and vanilla. Soya may be added as an emulsifier. The higher the quantity of cocoa powder used in this process, the darker and stronger the chocolate will be. The proportions of cocoa solids and butter vary from anything from a third to more than 70 per cent.

It is now that the process of conching can begin. The conche is a container filled with metal beads, used to grind the liquid mixture into a smooth paste. The most expensive chocolates are conched for up to 72 hours, the cheapest for just four. The beads of the conche break up the sugar and cocoa particles so they become undetectable - the "melt in the mouth" effect. The chocolate is ready to enter its final stage of production. By now recognisable as chocolate, the outside surface appears mottled and the texture is crumbly, liable to shatter rather than break with a satisfying snap. To combat this a process of tempering takes place whereby the chocolate is shaken, melted, cooled and heated again. This removes unwanted crystals which are liable to either melt too easily or which are too slow to form and make the end product overly hard. At this stage other ingredients such as fruit, nuts, or ginger can be added. The chocolate can be poured into moulds, shaped and wrapped ready to eat.

The health debate

It was hardly going to be difficult to convince the world that chocolate is good for you. The idea that we can eat our way to fitness has always been a popular one - so much easier than giving something up or taking up exercise. And if it tastes as good as chocolate, well, who can resist? The billion-dollar confectionery industry was not going to argue either. But cynicism aside, there has been a steady trickle of evidence to suggest that certain compounds in chocolate can benefit health.

Flavanols, present in cocoa drinks and to a lesser extent chocolate, can boost nitric oxide, lowering the blood pressure in a comparable way to that of asprin. Flavanols can also prevent deep-vein thrombosis, improve the cardiovascular system and prevent coronary heart disease. The darker the chocolate, the higher the cocoa count, the more anti-oxidant benefits it imparts, a characteristic which has elevated chocolate to the pantheon of "healthy foods" alongside red wine, green tea and blueberries. Of course there are the doom-mongers who point out that chocolate, with its calorie-drenched, high levels of high-saturated fats, is only good for you if taken in ridiculously small quantities. And most chocolates on the market have sugar contents that outweigh that of the health-inducing cocoa. However, one thing is certain: unless you are a recovering chocoholic, eating chocolate can make you feel good. Research suggests that chocolate can boost the production of neurotransmitter chemicals such as dopamine and seratonin. Theobrine, which is found in the cocoa bean, has been discovered to stimulate the production of endorphins. It produces the kind of "high" felt after exercising or sex. Some claim it can stave off depression, beat seasonal-affective disorder, or even keep colds and coughs at bay.

Can it then be surprising that chocolate therapy courses have also sprung up, offering an insight - it is alleged - into the deepest recesses of the mind? In his Chocolate Therapy: unwrap the secrets of your inner self, Murray Langham claims: "Once self-realisation around chocolate takes place, it allows you to restore, nourish and rebalance the human psyche." It can also help reveal the true you. If you like chocolate with ginger, you are one of life's achievers. If you prefer hazelnut, you are a "person who works with the wisdom of Mother Earth". Preferring Turkish Delight means you are someone on a spiritual quest.

The cultural significance

To the ancients, chocolate was celebrated as a link to a higher plane - a gateway to the gods. It was one reason why the Church at the time treated it with unalloyed suspicion.

But the idea that it can somehow change the people that consume it or come into contact with it has continued to exert a powerful hold over the popular imagination.

In her much-loved novel, Chocolat, Joanne Harris uses the confection as a metaphor. It is, she says, "not simply as an agent of pleasure, or even temptation, but an instrument of change, a catalyst that heals wounds, brings shy lovers together, incites children to rebel against their parents and battered wives to seek independence".

Four decades earlier, in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Roald Dahl offers another view of the transformative powers of the dark stuff. Charlie Bucket, a well-behaved young boy from an impoverished background, is one of five lucky recipients of a Golden Ticket - a free pass to tour the factory of the brilliant chocolate entrepreneur Willy Wonka. The tour is in fact a ruse dreamed up by the reclusive tycoon to choose his successor. As each spoilt, greedy child is eliminated from the quest, meeting an appropriately sticky end, the kind-hearted Charlie is left to inherit the factory, his poverty, and that of his loving parents assuaged. Like Chocolat, Chocolate Factory was made into a film, the most recent, by the director Tim Burton, starring Johnny Depp as the bizarre sweet maker.

In Laura Esquivel's Like Water for Chocolate, the fruit of the cocoa tree returns to its central American origins. Set in turn-of-the century Mexico around the time of the revolution, a young woman confronts the limits of society's ambition for her through the medium of food and cooking.

Blending magical realism with real-life recipes, the heroine overcomes her thwarted love for a neighbouring rancher, with vastly entertaining consequences.

The new wave

Today's sweet shelves are bulging with choice when it comes to chocolate. From "gut-fill" bars laden with sugar, nuts and fondant to bitter, dark confections that would tickle the fancy of a 14th-century Aztec. Ethically harvested, health giving, mood boosting, the choice is dizzying.

According to some in the industry, the growing range is desperately needed to meet an ever-more sophisticated palate of the modern-day chocolate lovers. Tesco yesterday reported an 81 per cent growth in demand for dark chocolate eggs over the milk variety, compared with last Easter. Independent data from market analysts TNS shows overall sales of the cocoa-rich confectionery rose by 18 per cent over the past year, compared with 5 per cent for milk chocolate.

But the lion's share of the 80 million Easter eggs sold this year will bear little resemblance to their up-market counterparts, sold at the growing number of boutiques springing up in towns and cities across Britain.

While the British have the sweetest tooth in Europe, accounting for a quarter of total EU spending, our continental partners do not always approve of what we choose.

In 2003 the European Court of Justice rejected attempts by the Spanish and Italians to refuse to sell British products as chocolate because of their low cocoa count and excessive vegetable fat content. But times are changing.

Paul Richardson, author of Indulgence: One Man's Selfless Search for the Best Chocolate, is in the vanguard, turning his back on the milk chocolate of his youth in preference for rare Venezuelan blends sold by obscure Parisian chocolatiers.

He said: "Once a Mars freak, I now see the bars for what they are: the Big Macs of the confectionery world. I have sworn to myself not to let another Walnut Whip or Crème Egg pass my lips."