With Easter in the air and the Bunny on his way, Judith Woods investigates the chocolate fountain phenomenon.
The low moans of female ecstasy emanating from the back of my house were the first indication that this was no ordinary party. Just as the excited squeals hit a When Harry Met Sally crescendo, my husband strode through the front door.
Better than sex: a chocolate fountain party.
"Good grief," he muttered. "What on earth are you doing in the kitchen? Filming a soft porn movie?"
As the door swung open, it became apparent that this was much better than mere sex. This was a chocolate fountain party: 10 kilos of best Belgian chocolate, cascading down a three-and-a-half foot tower in the centre of the table.
And having sampled its delights, I can categorically state that the end is nigh for the Easter egg. After all, what self-respecting woman would allow the man in her life to fob her off with a supermarket-bought egg, when - if he really loved her - he would hire her what is essentially a five-tiered wedding cake made out of liquid chocolate?
The idea is to take a piece of succulent fruit such as pineapple or a strawberry on a long skewer, dip it in the chocolatey waterfall and pop it in your mouth. The groans of satisfaction, although not mandatory, seem pretty much unavoidable.
Given the endorphine buzz that even the smell of the fountain induced among my friends, I can understand why these glorious American imports are fast becoming the centrepiece of choice at Britain's top parties.
At last year's post-Bafta bash, three chocolate fountains were left running for several hours before the event, to whet the appetite of stars including Scarlett Johansson and Pedro Almodóvar.
"People definitely go a little bit wild when they see and smell a chocolate fountain," says Deborah O'Neill of leading London chocolatier Pierre Marcolini, who supplied the fountains. "They become very childlike and unihibited. Emma Thompson couldn't keep away and Johnny Depp kept sticking his fingers into the chocolate, which is very bad etiquette, but then he is a bit of a rebel."
My chocolate fountain, supplied by the Chocolate Fondue Fountain Company, came with an array of delicious nibbles for dunking. There were bananas and grapes, pink marshmallows and soft mints, little pieces of flapjack and hot cross buns.
More unusually, there were chunks of mature cheddar cheese and even green and red chillies for the more daring souls among us. The chocolate-cheese combination was surprisingly tasty, the tart and sweet flavours melding on the tongue. I was too cowardly to try the chillies, but a pregnant friend declared it a gastronomic treat.
The Chocolate Fondue Fountain Company is run by Mark Grimwade, who also runs a wedding entertainment business. He supplies fountains at between £195 and £495, and increasingly, couples are hiring one instead of a cake. After all, a fountain will feed - and just as importantly, amuse - between 150 and 200 people.
"I always used to find wedding shows quite frustrating - as soon as the brides spotted the wedding dresses, they just ignored every other stand," says Grimwade. "Then I attended a fair where there was a chocolate fountain - as soon as the brides smelt the chocolate they were off, running past the dresses to get to it. That's when I understood the power of chocolate."
Given a choice of chocolate for the fountain, I went for a delicious blend of milk and dark. The fountain was installed an hour and a half before the party. Bags of little chocolate pellets called callets were emptied into the base, and an element underneath slowly heated them until they were liquid.
Then the motor was switched on and the chocolate was pumped up a 44 in central column, before gushing down several tiers in a smooth curtain.
There was no mess on the table and no chocolate-spattered party frocks. This is because there is an art to chocolate dipping: you take the dip on the end of a skewer, plunge it into the chocolate and twist until coated. Then place a napkin under the dip as you bring it towards your face and place the whole thing in your mouth; taking ladylike nibbles is to court disaster - but a chocolate splash or two could be fun.
At Quintessentially, the private members' concierge club, demand for chocolate fountains is soaring among clients who want to offer their guests something a little different.
"A chocolate fountain adds to the energy and chemistry of any gathering," says Louise O'Riordan of Quintessentially. "It's a fabulous way of breaking down barriers. There's a Charlie and the Chocolate Factory effect, where people are transported back to when they were kids."
Chocolate fountains are more satisfying than sex, more fun than cake. It's official: liquid chocolate is the new champagne.
I was out doing some last-minute shopping yesterday and, I swear, *every* department and variety store of any size that I went into seemed to have at least one model of chocolate fountain for sale. A couple had two or three sizes on display, from petite to jumbo.
Are people actually using these things? Or are they just this year's must-have fad gadget that will sit in the basement until it's carted off to Goodwill along with the Sonicblade?
Seems like a good way to waste a bunch of chocolate, although Hershey's must be pretty happy about them. Noka, too, I'm sure.
A friend's wife has a nice chocolate fountain, but she's a professional caterer and chocolatier. Even then, I've yet to actually see it in action. Yet, go to any large dept store and there's usually 2 or 3 models/brands for sale. Like you say, the next big garage sale item. Wait for this summer. ;)
Out here in the Boonies these fountains seem to be all the rage. Have attended several functions lately where they were featured - always surrounded by a gaggle of small children busily poking their grubby little fingers into the chocolate waterfall and licking them with great relish. Beyond disgusting.
It's just a new version of chocolate fondue. BTW, pineapple chunks in chocolate are delightful (and I'm not all that fond of chocolate). Hmmm, there's a chocolate kaluah (sp?) fondue recipe floating around here somewhere. But I'm with you on the fountain gadget... totally unnecessary. A fondue pot is also unnecessary; you can accomplish the same thing on the stove top.
You know I've been in the group that totally poo poos this contraptions. Last year my daughter's friend got one for Christmas. We had a get together and they said they'd bring it over for dessert. I have to say having a contraption spewing chocolate to dip things in was quite wonderful. By the end of the night broccoli and carrots were being dipped into it as we had run out of fruit and cake. We really enjoy when the chocolate fountain comes to visit. Would I buy one for myself... probably not... never would be too strong of a word.
Chocolate fountain story: Three years ago, my son married a spoiled brat EyeTalian Princess. Their wedding reception was held at a frou-frou expensive hall north of Toronto. In addition to the usual food you would expect at this type of wedding reception, there was a dessert buffet at midnight, featuring the chocolate fountain. Everyone on our side of the family thought this was totally weird.
Fast forward one year. You guessed it: son and EyeTalian Princess split up. *Very* messy.
And now they are selling those chocolate fountains everywhere, including Canadian Tire, of all places.. Every time we see one, my husband and I say we should buy the son one for Christmas, and we crack up about it.
My one and only exposure to a chocolate fountain was at a wedding reception at a Niagara winery restaurant. I remember the groom being excited about the prospect of the chocolate shower There was a dessert buffet following the after dinner reception line. I think the idea was for people to have *a* dessert, since they were full size servings of pies and cakes, plus fruit platters and the chocolate fountain. I saw some people taking several desserts and then going over and showering the entire plate with chocolate. It was gross.