My friend Carol will tell you I am NOT a cook, and she’s right. Cooks invent new ways to turn daily caloric input into stuff I only dream about (unless Carol invites me over for dinner, because Carol is a cook).
Me, I’m a food geek. I could care less about daily meals, but give me a challenge, or slip some fascinating cookery science my way, and I’m on it. And, usually, a new recipe is the result. This time: Salted hazelnut toffee with chocolate, which is pretty daggone tasty if I do say so myself.
Backstory: Every holiday season my mother-in-law** made the world’s best toffee. It was crunchy-tender, not too sweet, redolent of toasted peanuts and chocolate, with a small, unexpected spurt of butter at the finish. She made it in a special square cast-iron pan, one precious batch at a time, and only a favored few ever got a box of that toffee. Opening a box of those golden-nuggets-of-delight was the highlight of the season.
Once I married her son, she shared the recipe. I never once correctly reproduced it; no matter how closely I followed her instructions, mine came out too soupy, too hard, too grainy, or too something.
“You need the special pan, dear,” she’d say serenely, while I grimaced and turned my failures into ice cream topping (the eventual destination for all failed candy recipes). Eventually, I gave up.
Fast-forward to December 2014:
I needed to
bribe thank a co-worker for project help, so I stopped off at the local Sees Candy. They had Victorian Toffee that looked just like Bernie’s toffee, so I bought some to share with the crew.
Whoa!! That stuff wasn’t fit to be in the same ROOM with Bernie’s golden-nuggets-of-delight!!
I suddenly needed to conquer toffee for the holidays. And, thanks to the Internet, a guy named Harold McGee,*** and a few extra years of candymaking experience, I reproduced Bernie’s toffee…then I went her one better and invented my own.
This version is a lot easier to master, and instead of peanuts, pays homage to Glassland with genuine Oregon hazelnuts and some subtle spices. Here’s the recipe, along with some advice.
I’m not much for eating sweets but I love making them, probably because–like making glass–there’s as much science as art involved.
- Read the directions and follow them exactly (or figure out the science and learn how to break the rules). Heatwork–not just the temperature you reach but the time it takes to get there–can be important, as can the order in which you add ingredients.
- An accurate candy thermometer is critical (I actually use two, a standard bulb thermometer that stays in the pan and an infrared digital that tells me when I’m getting close)
- The cooking pan is also important; it should have a thick/heavy bottom that can heat extremely evenly to prevent hotspots. If you don’t have one you’ll need to stir constantly (and pretty quickly) to keep the candy heating evenly. I have a Kuhn-Rikon pressure-cooker that works perfectly for this, but if you’ve got a cast-iron pot you’ve got the classic candy-cooker.
- Most candy-makers turn candy out onto buttered wax paper, or parchment paper. If you’ve got a silpat (silicone sheet), you’ll be happier. I don’t like using aluminum foil because it tends to need peeling off the candy and makes a mess.
- Prep EVERYthing before you start melting the butter. It only takes one second of searching/chopping/unwrapping for boiling toffee to metamorphose from golden-nuggets-of-delight to burnt-offering-from-hell.
- Butter the sides of the saucepan before you start–it will help prevent crystallization and (for me) works better than washing down the sides with cold water.
- You’ll notice almonds tucked into the hazelnuts in this recipe, even though they don’t get top billing. I’ve found that they add a sort of meaty foundation that boosts the flavor. The other way you can go with this is to boost the hazelnuts to about 340 grams and then add 30-40 grams of shredded coconut (toast it right along with the nuts)…but that’s up to you.
- If you’re really serious about boosting the nutty flavor (and you have a nephew who obliges you with fresh hazelnut oil for Christmas), add a half teaspoon of hazelnut oil to the butter as you’re melting it. (Make sure it’s not rancid–that stuff turns very quickly)
- The European-style butter I’m calling for here generally has a higher butterfat percentage with less moisture content than North American butter–it makes a slightly richer-tasting candy. But either type is fine.
- You can vary the sugar type as long as you use the same weight. Granulated sugar will make a less caramel-ey flavor; dark brown will have a slightly wilder flavor.
- The corn syrup helps retard the tendency of the sugar to crystallize and make the toffee grainy. Most of the recipes I saw add it fairly late in the process; I add it early to make sure the molecules are evenly distributed before the sugar arrives.
- Note that I’m listing the weights of ingredients (mostly); candy proportions are persnickety. I find weight to be more accurate.
Salted hazelnut toffee with chocolate
- 300 grams (about 1.5 cups) whole hazelnuts
- 75 grams (about 0.75 cup) whole or slivered almonds
- 230g (1 cup) of unsalted European-style butter
- 1 teaspoon Karo syrup (white corn syrup)
- 1/2 cup water
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 200 grams (about 1 cup) light brown sugar
- 1 teaspoon GOOD vanilla
- 5-10 grates of fresh nutmeg
- almond extract
- pinch of fresh cardamom
- 250 grams of really good chocolate
- 2 teaspoons of fancy salt
- heavy-bottomed saucepan, at least 2 quarts
- 1 silpat mat
- 1 jellyroll pan (cookie sheet)
- 1 wooden spoon, silicone spatula, set of measuring spoons, measuring cup for wet ingredients, knife for nut chopping, etc.
- accurate digital scale
- candy thermometer
- medium-sized bowl for nut/chocolate topping
- small cup, plate or mise en place bowl
Nuts. Put the silpat on the baking sheet, spread all the nuts on top, and toast in a 300-degree oven for 15-20 minutes. Check on them every 5 minutes, rotating the nuts and checking them. If they begin to smell like toasted nuts or start to show color; remove them immediately (they’re starting to burn). Mix the nuts up, then coarsely chop half the nuts and set aside (these will go into the toffee). Finely chop the other half (these go on top of the toffee) and put in the topping bowl. Set aside.
Chocolate. The chocolates you pick are up to you. I used a mixture of Ghiradelli Semisweet, Varlhona Milk, Godiva Milk, and Scharffenberger Dark, but that’s because I’m also doing chocolate tests. You can either grate the chocolate or finely chop it, but the pieces should be no larger than grains of rice when you’re through. Mix into the toppings bowl with the nuts, and set aside.
Flavorings. Take your little plate or bowl, pour a tiny bit of almond extract into it, and dump it out again, so that it’s just wetting the bottom of the bowl. (I found that any more than that was too much). Now add your vanilla, grate the nutmeg into it, and add the cardamom. Set aside.
Salt. A crunchy sea-salt is a nice contrast; I had some Fleur de sel around but any fancy coarse salt will work. The larger crystal is an unexpected flavorburst in the midst of all that sweetness–the particles should be maybe 2mm in size, no larger.
Everything else. Unwrap the butter and set it in the cold saucepan. Take one stick of the butter and rub it across the sides of the pan, covering them thoroughly (I know it sounds odd, but you’ll thank me later). Measure out the water, stir in the corn syrup and set beside the stove. Measure out the salt and brown sugar. Attach the candy thermometer to the pan, get your spoon ready. Clean off the silpat, set the pan with the silpat in it next to the stove, ready to receive the toffee. Have the toppings bowl and the toffee nuts nearby.
Now take a deep breath.
Making the toffee
Put the saucepan with the butter on the stove, crank it to medium-low heat. Let the butter melt slowly, stirring a bit to get it going. When the butter melts, add the water and stir that in, then add the salt and brown sugar. Stir it all together, and start watching the thermometer.
You’re going for a boil, but take your time doing it. The faster you heat, the faster things can go wrong. It takes me 30-40 minutes to get to the toffee point on my thermometer, so settle down and wait.
You don’t have to stir continuously right now unless you’ve got a very thin-bottomed pan (please tell me you don’t)…but keep your eye glued to that thermometer. The mixture will start to bubble in earnest around 190F. At about 225F, it darken and thicken up. Approaching 245F, it’ll slow and appear to get stuck for a bit.
Be patient, give it a stir. By 250F, it’ll be forming a thick, lava-like mass (which, if it pops and lands on your skin, resembles napalm, so watch out). Stir occasionally, have some faith, and keep watching the thermometer. .
At 255F, start reaching for the coarsely chopped toffee nuts. At 260F, dump them in and start stirring like a madman.
At this point the toffee can do many not-good things:
- It can start crystallizing (the buttered sides should prevent that)
- It can separate
- It can spatter
Don’t worry; your stirring will keep it happy. What you’re aiming for is a smooth covering of golden brown goo over all those nuts, so keep stirring and…
WATCH THAT THERMOMETER!!!!!!!
At 280F, it will be getting darker still, and your mix is nearing “hard ball” stage. This is when a bit of it, dropped in icewater, will form a hard ball. Problem is, by the time you do the test, it will have zoomed past that stage and onto “burnt offering” stage, so stick with thermometer-watching.
REMOVE FROM THE HEAT AT 290F!
Immediately, stir in the flavorings (the vanilla and such) and mix thoroughly. Then pour onto the silpat, scraping it all out. (BE CAREFUL) Immediately put the pan into the sink and fill with soapy water (easier to clean).
Pick up the spatula, and use it to spread your toffee as thinly as you can without getting crazy about it. Don’t worry about the nuts, and if it makes holes, just let it flow together.
Adding the topping
Now, while it’s still very hot, spoon the chocolate/nut mixture on top. The chocolate will melt and adhere the nuts to the candy. You can help it along by pressing and sliding the spatula a bit along the topping, filling in the holes.
If you want to be fancy, you can spread just half the topping, pressing it into the candy to accelerate melting. Then, get some tongs, lift the toffee from the silpat (it will lift easily) and flip it over.
Now you can (quickly) spread the rest of the topping on the other side, so that you get double-coated toffee. There should be enough residual heat in the toffee that the chocolate on both sides melts and gives you a solid, thin coating of nuts and chocolate. Me, I don’t bother.
Scatter the coarse salt on the last side that got chocolate, as a final touch. The amount you use is up to you; I rarely use the whole amount.
It’s a little tough to describe, so when I made another batch of this stuff tonight I shot pics (not easy when you’re handling toffee napalm, lemme tell ya). Maybe this will help:
I stick the whole pan in the refrigerator for an hour or so at that point, but I’m an impatient soul; it will eventually harden on its own. When it’s hard, you can either gift the whole slab with a little hammer, so that folks can break it up themselves, or whack it with your own hammer and serve it in chunks.
The latter is more fun, especially since you get to keep all the shrapnel for yourself.
There are obsessed individuals who chop this stuff up into plus-or-minus-precise cubes while it’s still hot and soft, so that everyone gets identically sized pieces…but we won’t talk about them.
I’m told this type of toffee will keep for a week or two if kept covered in an airtight box, and it will freeze well. I’ve never seen a batch of homemade butter nut toffee last out the day, so I’ve no idea if that’s true.
Anyway, enjoy, and merry happy joyous year-end festivities to you all.
*Well, baking and candy-making, anyway
**Who became my ex-mother-in-law so long ago I doubt either of us even remember what the other looks like, although I sure as heck remember that toffee
***Author of On Food and Cooking: The Science and Lore of the Kitchen, which may be the single most comprehensive and wonderful book on food geekery ever written