“Your body that includes everything
you have done, you have had done
to you and goes beyond it
This is not what I want
But I want this also.”
/ Margaret Atwood, from Circe / Mud Poems in You are Happy.
The art of loss isn’t hard to master. I’m rather fluent in it, you could call it my fourth language. Or, first. I can wrap my mother tongue around all the licks and curls in the hierarchies of pain, and sometimes, I get lost, slovenly, even, and confuse it with pleasure. And then I taste all kinds of truths and torments that the body knows but the mouth won’t speak of – can’t. The same goes for the heart. Like I said, I get lost in myself.
Chestnut amaro truffles, or, the residual poisons of a passion. Amaro can be unkind, but also pure, arduous even gentle, and I think that’s the mark of a good digestif. It’s meant for endings; to help the body cleanse and heal, process all that it just took. And it’s definitely not meant for beginnings. By now, you’d think I would know that. “It’s nasty, isn’t it.” I said over our first and final Fernet Branca and to which he replied, “It’s not. But I think you want it to be.”
And then he swished his mouth out with water.
If you don’t have an amaro, you can use cognac or brandy, whisky, even rum. I like the ones with warm toffee undertones. The chestnut purée should be unsweetened. It comes in a tin and I get in my standard grocery store. It’s the kind of thing that you’d overlook on the shelf but if you can’t find it, source online. The chocolate is the most important bit. A good, dark, kind, that’s not too biting, is ideal. There’s no direct inclusion of sugar in these truffles, so please adjust the cocoa solid percentage to your palate.
I have nothing more to say, I have everything to devour.
360 g (2 cups + 2 tablespoons) dark chocolate, 240 ml (1 cup) heavy cream, 60 ml (1/4 cup) amaro, 80 g (1/4 cup + 1 tablespoon) purée de marrons, dutch processed cocoa powder, for dusting
First, finely chop the chocolate and put it into a large bowl. Combine the cream and amaro in a saucepan. Heat, over medium-low, until it comes to a simmer then pour the hot liquid all over the chocolate. Let stand for a minute to acclimatize, then stir, softly, until smooth.
Next, put the purée de marrons into a blender. Pour over the chocolate mixture, using a rubber spatula to scrape out any slick remnants from the bottom and sides of the bowl. Blitz on high speed for about 15 seconds, until silky. Return the ganache to the bowl then chill until it is just firm enough to handle, a couple of hours.
To finish, put enough cocoa powder in a shallow bowl. With a lightly-warmed scoop or spoon, portion out even-sized truffles, dusting each as you go with a rattle of the hand. If at some point the ganache becomes too soft to handle, as it often will if the weather is hot, manoeuvre the bowl between the work bench and the refrigerator. It’ll help. Serve, soon after, or keep cold.