Inside the chocolate factory

We pulled down a lonely dirt road, following the crudely lettered handmade signs.

“Chocolate Tour.” Simple as that.

Piqued by recommendations from other tourists and the owners of the lodge where we were staying, we decided to explore an organic cacao plantation just outside Puerto Viejo, on the southeast coast of Costa Rica.

The midday sun beat down in the 30 C heat. Sweat poured from us as we hiked up a steep incline in search of the “finca” or farm that rests on a hilltop about 1,500 feet above sea level. The cries of howler monkeys echoed through the air, lending a melodic line to the chorus of a jungle alive with wildlife.

Artisan chocolate is something of a trend now, with everything from fair trade to organic to heirloom cacao on offer to the chocolate gourmand. We were about to explore the root of chocolate-making in its most raw and least-processed form.

We waited in the sweltering heat, occupying our time by searching for toucans, when suddenly our guide emerged from the bush: tall, tanned, wearing shorts, a T-shirt and Crocs, and carrying a machete. With a Swiss accent, Marcos explained that he and his Costa Rican wife, Claudia, bought the plantation from her family almost 20 years ago and have been making organic chocolate ever since.

We followed him through the jungle until we arrived at a clearing. The trees looked different here. Each one was laden with large, heavy fruit, many near the size of volleyballs. Marcos explained that these were cacao trees, and showed us pods at various stages of ripening.

With the machete, he hacked off a pod and split it, revealing fruit inside that was covered in a whitish film. We tasted it, sucking the sweet juice and spitting out the large seed inside.

These are the pods that house what will eventually become chocolate, although from the fruity taste of the juice, it was hard to imagine its transformation to the dark richness of chocolate.

We set off once again until we arrived at the next station, which had large tables set out in the sun. A seemingly endless layer of cacao beans covered the large surface, where they had been left to dry. They would be turned frequently to ensure even drying, and eventually placed under shade to avoid sunburn.

The husks eventually end up in a compost pile nearby, where our guide casually flicked a few over with his machete until he found a red dart frog, one of the most poisonous in the world. Apparently cacao husks are a great spot for a frog to seek shelter, and Marcos delighted in providing a quick lesson in the various species of poisonous frogs that call Costa Rica home.

He then announced that it was time to head to the processing plant. We looked at each other, wondering how he could possibly have a factory tucked away in the middle of the Costa Rican jungle. Our queries were soon answered as we came to an open-air shelter, up on a rock ledge and covered by a tin roof.

This is where we saw the magic that is handmade chocolate-making. We were introduced to his wife, Claudia and their son, both of whom are instrumental to processing the beans. They treated us to a step-by-step demonstration.

First, the beans were roasted in a huge wok-like frying pan over an open flame.

Next, they were poured out onto a mat.

Marcos then picked up a large, round rock in his two hands. With a rocking motion, he demonstrated how to crush the beans with the rock. This separated the shell from the cacao nibs.

We were amazed at the use of such simple, labour-intensive, seemingly archaic technology. However, we were about to go from amazed to astonished.

Our guide brought over a simple electric fan and placed it in front of the crushed beans. He scooped the beans into a bowl and turned on the fan. Pouring the beans onto the mat, the fan blew air which separated the nibs from the shells. After three rounds of this procedure, Marcos triumphantly held up the bowl of nibs and compared it to the shells on the ground: all the shells and nibs had been separated.

Without further ado, he smiled at his surprised spectators, discarded the shells and kept the nibs, the essence of cacao.

With a hand grinder, he began to grind the cacao nibs into a thick paste and passed the mixture around for everyone to try. It had a rich, chocolate flavour — no sweetness at all but, surprisingly, not bitter. The heavenly scent permeated the air.

He then took the paste and mixed it with water, spices and sugar (the exact recipe is a secret) for an unusual and delicious hot chocolate.

He explained that the paste would typically be used to make rolls of chocolate as well as a base (in a round solid form) that could be used in baking.

Gathered in the processing plant, we were finally treated to samples of flavoured chocolate.

Sitting in a tin shack in the middle of Costa Rica then seemed like the most natural place in the world for such a delicacy. We tasted chocolate flavoured with coffee, vanilla, orange and coconut. They were for sale, and at one dollar per baton, the bargain was too tempting to resist.

The end result, so simple and delectable, belies the incredibly hard work that goes into each product. With only a small staff to support the family business, Marcos explained that farming organic chocolate meant intensive labour was required to operate the growing, harvesting and processing aspects of the plantation.

In addition to typical farming issues, such as variations in weather, of paramount concern during our visit was a fungus that could attack the trees, destroying them if not caught and removed immediately.

Learning about these extra challenges made our appreciation for the farmers greater, and the end result even sweeter.

We’ll be unwrapping some of the chocolate Feb. 14 to feel a little bit of the Costa Rican sunshine and indulge in some truly artisan chocolate.

Kieran Walsh teaches English literature at Gonzaga High School in St. John's, and Kristin Harris Walsh is project co-ordinator at the MMaP Research Centre. Their travels have taken them to five continents.