Meet the fifth generation Hawaiian family who are changing chocolate

“I’d like to introduce you to a dear friend of mine. He’s very intelligent, he’s highly evolved, he’s handsome and delicious and very shy,” tour guide Alexandria Webster said mischievously.

“Friends, this is Theo.”

Partially expecting an eligible bachelor to come sauntering around the foliage of the 46-acre Lydgate Farms in Kapaa, Kaua’i, we quickly learn that Theo is short for Theobroma cacao. Alas, not a heartthrob, but a tropical evergreen tree known for its seeds that are used to produce cocoa powder and chocolate, whose scientific name means ‘food of the gods’ in Greek.

“This mood-elevating food was discovered by the ancient Aztecs and Mayans and back then they weren’t nibbling on Hershey,” she says. “They were consuming chocolate as a ceremonial health chocolate tonic beverage and it was fermented cocoa beans with some spices like cinnamon, cardamon, vanilla bean and some hot chilli peppers. If you were drinking it you were likely a monarch or a priest because you were consuming money. This is what they would trade as their currency.”

A superfood with super qualities

On a mission to change the way people think about chocolate, Webster says many visitors who come to the farm don’t know that chocolate is a fruit.

“It’s not just a fruit, it’s a superfood. Cacao is loaded with vitamins, trace minerals, hundreds of them, it’s one of the highest whole food sources of antioxidants that you can consume. It contains over forty mood-elevating properties,” she said. 

Over the centuries, this beverage was used to treat anemia, mental fatigue, tuberculosis, fever, gout, kidney stones, and even poor sexual appetite. While most of the chocolate of today no longer has health benefits, top-of-the line fine chocolates do.

“It only takes one ounce of quality chocolate a day to reap the benefits of heart health, brain health,” she says. “It’s great for your blood circulation, it’s going to open up your vessels, it’s going to improve your mood, your alertness because of the theobromine in chocolate. So, if you eat chocolate every day, you will not only be happier, you’re going to die a little less. It’s shown to lower all-cause mortality.”

Regenerative, generational farming

Lydgate Farms is run by Will Lydgate, whose family legacy on Kaua’i can be traced back across five generations. “My great-grandfather William arrived in 1865 with a dream to help build the future of the Hawaiian Kingdom,” he says. “[I’ve] dedicated myself to building a team that grows the best cacao the world has ever tasted.”

Embodying the principle of Mālama ‘Āina, a Hawaiian word that means to care for and honour the land for future generations, sustainability is at the forefront of his efforts. In addition to producing single-estate chocolate and treats like chocolate-covered macadamia nuts, Lydgate Farms also offers vanilla beans and small-batched palm blossom honey. 

“This beautiful tropical diverse farm is cultivated in a regenerative fashion, meaning we’re reinvesting in the soil for generations to come,” says Webster, adding that honey tasting is now part of the tour. “Cacao is an equatorial fruit — it only grows about 20° of the equator. That actually makes Hawai’i the only place in the continental US that can commercially grow chocolate.”

The farm has been recognized multiple times for producing some of the best chocolate in the world at international competitions. “Our farm represents the United States of America at the Cocoa of Excellence Awards in Paris. This is a world-wide chocolate competition every two years. Our humble farm is like the Jamaican bobsled team of the chocolate world, the underdogs,” she says, referencing the cult-favourite movie Cool Runnings. “Forty-six acres is a drop in the bucket compared to Ecuador, Peru, Costa Rica, they have thousands of acres and they’ve been doing it way longer than us. Small but mighty, we are now three consecutive runnings of the 50 best tasting chocolates in the whole world.”

From bean to bar

Based solely on the terroir of the farm, chocolate bars can elicit different flavour profiles from fruits to earthy tones. While there are only 14 original families of cacao, they cross pollinate to create thousands of varietals and result in the various coloured pods that range from yellow to vibrant red.

“Chocolate that’s fermented, that has distinctive flavour, that is packed with health benefits, and is not confectionery — meaning it’s heavily diluted with milk and sugar — didn’t even exist until 1997,” she says. “Isn’t that wild? It hasn’t been that long. People are just starting to learn about the art and the science that goes into making fine chocolate. Because Hawai’i is the only state where it can be commercially grown, we’re trying to transform Kaua’i into the Napa Valley of the chocolate world.”

At US$18 a pop, a chocolate bar from Lydgate Farms comes with a heftier price tag than your typical store-bought Cadbury bar. But when you consider the process involved, it should be a lot steeper. “If I crack this seed open and plant a seed today, it takes the tree at least four to five years to start bearing mature fruit. At that age, cocoa blossoms will start to bloom. They are so small that they are not pollinated by bees. They’re pollinated by the midge, which is a type of gnat,” she says. “Then it takes six to eight months for them to mature. A cacao tree can live 50 to 100 years.”

When it’s all said and done, she said the journey from bean to bar takes six to seven years. “Chocolate has more intricacies, more terroir, more flavour markers than wine,” she says. 

This story first appeared in the Spring 2024 issue of OFFSHORE. To read the full story, click here

 

Inside the Italian town that gave us Parmesan cheese

On a trip to the grocery store the other day, I found myself standing in the pasta aisle.

Stocked between the packages of linguine and penne, rigatoni and fusilli, and hovering above exorbitant rows of pre-mixed jars of pasta sauce, were an army of plastic shakers, crammed with Parmesan cheese.

Grabbing one, I rolled the container over and skimmed the ingredients: cellulose powder, potassium sorbate, calcium chloride, lipase, sorbic acid…the list went on, with a string of other words that sounded just as unnatural. 

Don’t get me wrong; I’d grown up eating the Parmesan cheese I was now side-eyeing. After ladling chunky Bolognese sauce onto a plate of steaming, buttered spaghetti noodles, the cheese was the next best part, even though sometimes you’d have to whack the bottom to get the clumpy pieces to break apart. After a few vigorous shakes with roughly a quarter of the container dispersed, the pasta was ready to eat.

I never gave much thought to this cheese, which for some reason, could sit on a shelf with dried goods and not go bad, sometimes for more than a year. But after visiting a local caseificio, (known locally as a classic dairy farm) in Parma, Italy, I had a new appreciation for one of North America’s favourite cheeses.

A 1,000 year-old secret

 Like the city’s name suggests, Parma is the birthplace of Parmigiano Reggiano, which is a protected designation of origin product, and somewhat of a national treasure to all of Italy.

For one thousand years, the production of Parmigiano Reggiano in Parma has followed an ancient recipe using just three simple ingredients: milk, salt and rennet—familiar and natural ingredients, I might add. With such simple origins, the final product is also lactose-free, high in protein and low in fat.

Originating in the Middle Ages, Benedictine monks were the first to start churning out large wheels of cheese with a long maturation period, using salt from the nearby Salsomaggiore salt mines and fresh cow’s milk.

Free from additives and preservatives, the longer the cheese aged, the more value it held.

According to the Consortium of Parmigiano Reggiano, which was founded in 1901 in a bid to authenticate and differentiate between copycat Parmesan cheeses, the first evidence of cheese being used as commerce through trade dates back to a record of sale in the 12th century. From dowries to land agreements, cheese was used as a form of currency for hundreds of years.

The making of a perfect Parmesan

At Azienda Agricola Bertinelli, a producer of Parmigiano Reggiano, the process starts with roughly 550 litres of raw milk.

“Half of the milk is from the previous evening that is kept in large containers and half is from this morning,” said Giovanna Rosati, spokesperson for the  Consortium of Parmigiano Reggiano. “In the morning, they push the container over the vat and the partially skimmed milk falls into the vat. They are not allowed to use a decreamer, because it would alter the milk. It’s a great example of a protected designation of origin (PDO) product, which is a product that owes its characteristics to its area of origin, where it is produced, not to some secret patented recipe,” she added.

From there, rennet (an enzyme found in the stomach of dairy cattle) is added and the milk begins to naturally curd. Next, it’s the job of the master cheesemaker to break the curd down and begin cooking the cheese. Using steam, the curds sink to the bottom of the vat and begin to form one giant mass. From start to finish, the process takes roughly 50 minutes, in which two twin wheels of cheese are created. 

But the work doesn’t stop there. After cooking, each cheese is wrapped in a traditional linen cloth, then placed in a traditional mould, which gives it its classic wheel shape. Next, it’s transferred to a casein plate, which is outfitted with a sequential alphanumeric code that enables the cheese to be traced all the way back to its origins.

Holding up the stencil, Rosati looks almost like a WWE wrestler with the prized championship belt. “This engraves a few key details on the rind of the cheese,” she explains, noting it includes the code of the dairy producer where the cheese was made, as well as the month and year of production.

To be classified as a true Parmigiano Reggiano product, the cheese must be aged for a minimum of 12 months and undergo a rigorous quality control check, which includes a series of tapping tests to check for air pockets or tears.

And as for the cheese that doesn’t pass the test?

It’s cut up and sold as regular Parmesan—not to say that it isn’t outstanding, but without that stamp of approval, it’s no Parmigiano Reggiano. 

This story first appeared in the Spring 2024 issue of OFFSHORE. To read the full version, click here to access a digital copy.