Trial by Chocolate

The dainty silver welcome tray at the new ritz-carlton kuala lumpur is an objet d’art: half a dozen chocolate bonbons garnished with as many chocolate-dipped strawberries. I’m not making excuses, but I’m still light-headed from an 18-hour flight, and it’s been hours since lunch. Somewhere between the time my steamed and perfumed body emerges from my butler-drawn bath and my departure for dinner, I have consumed them all.

At midnight I return to my room to find the entire skyline of Kuala Lumpur rendered in chocolate, rising from an immense silver platter. Propped against the dark chocolate wall of the famous railway station is a hand-scripted note from my butler:

"I’ve prepared for you something special with our homemade Ritz-Carlton chocolate. I hope you like it."

I like it. I like butlers. I love emerging from the elevator to hear "Good afternoon, Ms. Bartlett," or "Welcome home, Ms. Bartlett," or "May I blanket every available surface of your room in chocolate, Ms. Bartlett?"

Who would have imagined that the chocolate gods of the Ritz-Carlton pastry kitchen, here in the exotic Far East, were trained by none other than the renowned Norman Love, who for 13 years traveled the world opening five-star pastry kitchens for Ritz-Carlton hotels; who would, soon afterward, land in Southwest Florida, establish the world’s premier chocolate factory and chocolate salon and—hopefully—never leave?

The Tasmanian honey, Tahitian vanilla, Turkish hazelnuts, cream from a Florida dairy, premium Swiss and French chocolate, and a hand-picked staff of skilled chefs have something to do with it, sure, but the key ingredient is Love’s passion. Wearing his white chef’s jacket or rubber apron and a baseball cap, he just can’t stay out of the kitchen. When he’s not designing, mixing, chopping, testing, tasting and collaborating with his staff, he’s giving tours and chatting with customers in the Chocolate Salon. Except around Valentine’s Day, when the line of anxious men snakes out the door and around the building, and the master chef is most likely tying ribbons on boxes of Love. You can never have too much Love.

While Belgium-based Godiva is having its premium line made in Fort Myers, Belgian-born Ingo and Leslie Wullaert are settling into their expanded new chocolate factory in Naples. The congenial young couple are both descended from several generations of chocolatiers, and Ingo holds a Master Chocolatier certification from the International Culinary School of Brugge. They originally created their exquisite handmade chocolates for society weddings, private parties, resorts and clubs, but they just couldn’t stop the customers from coming around for a taste and a box to take home. Who could resist a dark morsel of Swiss chocolate filled with creamy chocolate ganache, laced with a potent dose of Grand Marnier? Or cognac … or bourbon … or champagne … or kirsch? Not I. Not any self-respecting, card-carrying chocoholic. There are, of course, nonalcoholic selections, like the wildly popular one filled with Randy’s Key Lime Pie. And oh, the marzipan!

This month Ingo and Leslie are busy making enormous molded chocolate hearts, which are filled with truffles, boxed and ribboned and silver. And in the spring there will be Wullaert chocolate eggs and bunnies. Best to get on the waiting list now.

Warning: Chocoholics who simply can’t refrain from licking their arms during the treatment—yes, it’s real mud—may find the experience causing more stress than it relieves. The ideal solution, of course, is to install a chocolate fountain right in the foyer of your home. Each time you walk by, you skewer a fresh strawberry and wave it through the chocolate waterfall. So much more useful than a vase of flowers, don’t you think?

The next best thing, suggests Angela Chinaglia, a Naples caterer-to-the-stars, is a chocolate table at your next affair. Taylor Rentals offers chocolate fountains, complete with a supply of melting chocolate, starting at $350. From there, Angela says, decadence is simply a matter of degrees. To test the wow-factor, Angela set up a chocolate fountain featuring marshmallows, meringue kisses and exotic hand-carved fruits by the artisans at the Lorenzo Walker Culinary Institute. Cost for chocolate table like this for 12 or more, including setup, cleanup and your own live chocolate butlers: about $360, plus fountain.

Guys, listen up. It doesn’t take much to please your chocoholic woman this Valentine’s Day, and budget is no excuse. For less than $30, the two of you can gaze into each other’s eyes over the Flaming Turtle, a sensuous fondue of creamy milk chocolate, fresh pecans and caramel, set aflame at your table, then garnished with kiss-size bites of cheesecake, pound cake and brownies, plus fresh strawberries, pineapple, bananas and marshmallows for dipping. Just book your table at The Melting Pot. It will be a sweet night, guaranteed.

Perhaps you heard about the girl who had to get married? It was the only way Daddy would buy her a Mikkelsen’s wedding cake. Before setting a wedding date, some local brides check to make sure Paw Mikkelsen has room on his baking calendar. And one society couple hosted a lovely reception featuring their custom Mikkelsen chocolate divorce cake. Paw and Elizabeth Mikkelsen don’t cater much to the retail business, but customers are always popping in to test the petit fours, tarts, cream puffs and mousses in the display case. Prices start at 60 cents for a muffin or Danish, but one recent five-layer cake order for 180 people involving devil’s food ganache, mouse filling and a ganache glaze, with cascades of sugared grapes and strawberries, carried a price tag of $900. And nobody blinked.

True, some enlightened beings like Norman and Ingo can tell from a touch on a single tastebud whether a chocolate comes from Switzerland, or France, or Belgium. But for most mortals, presentation is half the pleasure. It’s easy to pass up a slice of cake topped with ice cream, but it takes a saint to resist something described as a "melting chocolate rum cake with coconut anglaise and vanilla bean ice cream" (Yabba Island Grill, Naples) or a "chocolate cake brushed with Grand Marnier, iced with raspberry butter cream and chocolate ganache" (Tony’s Off Third, Naples). Or how about "macadamia nut pound cake with layers of chocolate mousse served with warm butter rum sauce" (Magnolia Kitchen and Cake Factory, Sanibel Island)? Well, perhaps just a teeny taste.

And Zimmerman delivers. In season more than a thousand people a day line up at Royal Scoop, his family-owned store off Vanderbilt Drive in Bonita Springs. The Red Hat Ladies especially love his complimentary tour-and-tastings; then they stay for lunch (Royal Scoop serves sandwiches and such, but alas, they aren’t in the chocolate food group). Though Zimmerman and his wife/partner, Sarah, protect the identities of the upscale restaurants and clubs among their clientele, it’s no secret that when The Glenview in Pelican Bay once tried to switch ice cream vendors, the residents staged a major revolt. It was a bloodless coup.

Psst, here’s a royal scoop for GL readers: The Zimmermans have gotten so many franchise inquiries, from as far away as Australia and South Africa, they’ll officially launch the Royal Scoop franchise program next month. Better get in line.