Of Mice, Men, and Chocolate

By Sara Jagielski

Photos by Ben Fink

I came to Walpole, New Hampshire on a picturesque winter day to talk with pastry chef Michael Klug about making chocolate mice. These tasty, edible creatures are fashioned at L.A. Burdick, a well-respected chocolate shop situated among the southern foothills of the Green Mountains on the border of Vermont. Here, where late eighteenth-century homes and steepled churches reign, Klug and his team of pastry assistants work tirelessly to produce a wide variety of artisan truffles, all without the use of molds or preservatives. L.A. Burdick's specialty is chocolate; however, this curious shop has also managed to find a niche in the community by opening a café that serves a variety of European style desserts and a restaurant with brunch, lunch, and dinner menus.

Klug, a mustachioed middle-aged German, is the pastry chef for the chocolate shop, the café, and the restaurant. Managing all three facets of the business keeps him quite busy. Despite this fact, he seems calm and unhurried. As he stirred his coffee, he told me that he began his career as a cook working in various three-star Michelin restaurants in Cologne and Munich, but eventually switched over from cooking to pastry, moving to New York City to continue his career at legendary institutions like Lespinasse, Chanterelle and the Mark Hotel. Two years ago Larry Burdick, owner of L.A. Burdick, offered him the opportunity to come to New Hampshire to run the pastry shop. Klug saw this as a chance to learn more about chocolate making, something he didn't get to do in a restaurant serving primarily plated desserts.

Klug has learned a lot from working with Larry Burdick, whom he considers one of the most knowledgeable chocolate makers in the country. As a result, he is now a virtuoso at fashioning the chocolate mice that I'm so terribly curious about (mostly because I'm inherently a lover of animals, edible or otherwise). When I ask Klug where their inspiration came from, he says that Burdick discovered them while working in Switzerland. There, chocolatiers use left-over scraps of ganache and pipe them into mouse shapes. They are usually sold only to children and not really considered a quality product. Burdick elaborated upon this idea and turned his chocolate mice into a luxury truffle by using the best ingredients available.

The mice making process begins by creating an egg-based ganache from local New Hampshire cream, eggs, natural flavorings, and chocolate, primarily Valrhona with a small percentage of various Swiss brands. Klug prefers an egg-based ganache for its light consistency and ability to hold its shape better than cream-based versions. The light consistency also seems appropriate for the more than bite-sized chocolate mice. The chilled ganache is whipped to a very fluffy consistency. Each mouse is then piped onto a sheet pan using a pastry bag fitted with a plain round tip. "It's a one pressure pipe," he explains. "It takes a piper three to four months of training to be comfortable with the shape." After taking form, the mouse is garnished with almond sliver ears and coated with chocolate. For the finishing touch, eyes are piped on and silk cord tails are added.

There are three varieties of chocolate mice: The Dark Mouse, filled with a dark chocolate ganache flavored with freshly squeezed orange juice; The Milk Mouse, made with espresso-flavored dark and milk chocolate ganache and covered in a thin outer shell of milk chocolate; and The White Mouse, filled with cinnamon-infused dark chocolate ganache and coated in white chocolate. Klug notes that the color of the tail changes depending on the season or holiday.

The chocolate mice, though signature items, are only one type of truffle in L.A. Burdick's large line of artisan chocolates. It is evident that Klug prefers the regular truffles because he gives me a tepid smile when I ask his opinion of the mice. "It's not the important thing, but, of course, for the consumer it's really, really popular, so it's nice to have them." L.A. Burdick's truffles come in a variety of standard shapes, mostly rectangles, squares, diamonds and spheres. Some are coated in chocolate and sprinkled with ground nuts, while others are decorated with a modest crisscross of white chocolate or simply rolled in cocoa powder. These delicacies are all petit four-sized and filled with unusual flavors like lemon pepper, pistachio lavender, Scotch whisky, and cherry cumin. The chocolates are presented in a rustic wooden box tied shut with a lime green ribbon and stamped with a golden wax seal.

A note accompanies each box of truffles, letting the buyer know that these preservative-free chocolates should be consumed within seven to ten days. Klug explains that there is a noticeable decline in quality beyond this time period. Most of L.A. Burdick's chocolate sales are by mail order, so consumers can have chocolates shipped for overnight delivery, thereby ensuring freshness.

With the exception of Easter chocolates, every truffle made at L.A. Burdick is handcrafted without the use of molds, meaning that each is hand-piped and hand-cut by a staff of up to fifteen assistants. They do, however, use some modern technology in the kitchen, such as tempering and enrobing machines. This handmade aspect definitely sets them apart from competitors, many of which use bonbon molds. The general feeling at L.A. Burdick is that truffles made with molds are an inferior product because each one looks exactly the same and lacks distinction. Klug believes that it is gratifying, especially in this age of mass-produced merchandise, to buy something that is handcrafted and unique. "If you see 'A' movies and 'B' movies, a mold is a 'B' movie in our opinion."

In the café, the lunchtime rush is now in full swing. I have finished my tea and realize that it is time for me to leave, but not before I ask Klug one last question: what makes L.A. Burdick different from other chocolate makers? After all, the artisan chocolate business is becoming competitive with new truffle makers popping up all over the place, each one pushing a designer product. Klug is obviously prepared for this question. "We are always honest to the customer, and we use the highest quality ingredients. If we can't get the best ingredients, we will not substitute just to make a quick buck. We would just rather say that at the moment it's unavailable." Fair enough.

Before I leave, I sample two desserts at the café, one being the scrumptious Cannelé Bordelaise, a lavender and rum flavored custard baked in a petit cannelé mold until it forms a dark brown crust. I gobble it up and admit that I'm impressed with the quality of both the chocolates and the pastries at this little shop in rural New Hampshire. Here, in a white, clapboard building next to the post office, there is a genuine concern that every item is of the best quality possible and a sincere appreciation for chocolate making as a timeless craft. It is places like L.A. Burdick that turn an American trend into a tradition.