Joanna here, talking about chocolate pots in the Eighteenth and early Nineteenth Century, which is a small and very specific topic, but it possesses a certain naïve charm.
The whole sweeping history of chocolate is a huge ocean upon which I do not feel ready to embark when I am still (endlessly) in the midst of moving household. So we’re just going to look in at one of the tiny islands in that sea. If Georgian chocolate drinking were Homer’s Odyssey, looking at chocolate pots would be like visiting Calypso’s Isle. A manageable bite, as it were, and we don’t meet the Cyclops or get turned into pigs, which makes it a good day by anyone’s calculation.
Waked in the morning with my head in a sad taking through the last night’s drink, which I am very sorry for; so rose and went out with Mr. Creed to drink our morning draft, which he did give me in chocolate to settle my stomach.
Pepys 1661
Hot chocolate wandered into England by way of Spain and France. Like its fellow travellers, coffee and tea, hot chocolate loaded up on sugar, seduced the populace with pretty, delicate cups, and snuggled into the British Isles to make itself at home.
Hot chocolate started out both as a tonic sold in apothecaries and simultaneously a trendy brew served in exclusive cafés.Like most exotic new foods it was an expensive delicacy reserved for the upper crust and the prosperous middle classes.
An Eighteenth Century Yuppie drink, as it were.
In its fashionable debut it came close to being a health food. (Though there were naughty possibilities, of which more below.) The vaguely medicinal bitterness was more than compensated for by the splendid caffeine rush.
Technically, caffeine and theobromine rush. “Theobromine has an effect similar to, but lesser than, that of caffeine on the human nervous system, making it a lesser homologue.” Remember you heard it here first.
What was hot chocolate good for?
Pretty much, whatever ailed you.
The vertues thereof are no lesse various, then Admirable. For, besides that it preserves Health, and makes such as drink it often, Fat, and Corpulent, faire and Amiable, it vehemently Incites to Venus, and causeth Conception in women, hastens and facilitates their Delivery: It is an excellent help to Digestion, it cures Consumptions, and the Cough of the Lungs, the New Disease, or Plague of the Guts, and other Fluxes, the Green Sicknesse, Jaundise, and all manner of Inflamations, Opilations, and Obstructions. It quite takes away the Morphew [ed note. discolored skin], Cleanseth the Teeth, and sweetneth the Breath, Provokes Urine, Cures the Stone, and strangury [ed note. urinary infection], Expells Poison, and preserves from all infectious Diseases. But I shall not assume to enumerate all the vertues of this Confection: for that were Impossible, every day producing New and Admirable effects in such as drinke it.
Antonio Colmenero De Ledesma, Chocolate: or an Indian Drinke
Harking back to the “it vehemently Incites to Venus” part above, in the early days hot chocolate was considered an aphrodisiac. (I think the jury is still out on this so you may wish to experiment.)
The Virginia Almanac of 1770 very kindly warned women against it. “The fair sex to be in a particular manner careful how they meddle with romances, chocolate, novels, and the like,” especially in the spring, as those were all ‘inflamers’ and ‘very dangerous.’”
Like much good advice, this was pretty much ignored.
Fortunately, that medicinal value kept hot chocolate respectable. It sneaked out of the cafes and into pretty parlours and homey nurseries.
Moving on to chocolate pots which is kinda our ultimate destination on this tour. First off, chocolate pots in Fine Art:
(Chocolate was sold in thin dark wafers like those on the right in this image, wrapped in paper. And see how the hot chocolate calls forth an image of bread.)
(Here is hot chocolate being so wholesome it's fed to kids. There are lots of fond intimate portraits like this.
Also, this is what you did with the bread.
I have no idea what is going on with the hair on that kid.)
(A still life with bread, water, chocolate pot, and a brown pot of honey.)
When chocolate, tea, and coffee established themselves in Europe, the three drinks adopted three distinct pot styles suited to their idiosyncrasies. You can pretty much tell one sort of pot from the other. Exceptions abound, of course. (Look over there. Do you see those abounding exceptions leaping across the wide grassy plains?)
Tea pots were, frankly, squat. Their near-spherical shape had a low surface-to-volume ratio, (of course,) which minimized heat loss and kept the boiling water hot and maximized the British hot tea experience.
An experience unique to tea, apparently, as are tea cozies. I think.
Are there coffee cozies?
I ask myself why folks were willing to tolerate cool coffee.
Ah well.
Chocolate pots and coffee pots were both tall but the chocolates tended to have the spouts placed low on the body. My guess is this comes from the suspended-particles nature of the chocolate beast. The drink had to be continually stirred to keep the fine chocolate granules from settling. A low spout took in neither the thin liquid from the top nor the sediment from the very bottom.
Chocolate pots tended to have a shorter spout than the long slim column of many coffee pots. That might have been to prevent a narrow spout getting clogged with the thicker liquid.
Coffee pots, on the other hand, often had a coarse filter or small partition with holes that kept coffee grounds from getting into the cup. Filters would have been a clunky, glunky modus operandi for yer thick hot chocolate.
But the great distinction is the hole in the lid of the chocolate pot. This was often in the form of
a hinged or removable finial that allowed insertion of a molinillo or “chocolate mill” for stirring the pot.
Some of these removable finials were attached to the pot with a silver chain.
Molinillo is the Spanish word for the swizzlestick, frother, stirrer, or “mill” that kept the hot chocolate well mixed. There's a trick to it. You roll the handle between your hands to set it spinning.
The molinillo had a wood handle with a wood or metal bit at the business end. It would have been of a length that it could be left happily in the pot while you poured. And in the pot it stayed. Certainly it would have made a great mess if you removed it and set it aside.
This is how a larger mill was used in the preparation of the drink in the kitchen.
“Be sure whilst it is boiling to keep it stirring, and when it is off the fire, whir it with your hand mill. That is, it must be mixed in a deep pot of Tin, copper or stone, with a cover with a hole in the middle of it, for the handle of the mill to come out at, or without a cover. The mill is only a knob at the end of a slender handle or stick, turned in a turner's lathe, and cut in notches, or rough at the end. They are sold at turners for that purpose. This being whirled between your hands, whilst the pot is over the fire, and the rough end in the liquor causes an equal mixture of the liquor with the chocolate and raises a head of froth over it."
John Worlidge 1675
Then there is the complex issue of the sideways-facing handle.
This appears on both coffee and chocolate pots, but rather more often on chocolate pots, I think.The question that comes to mind is . . . why?
Is it just so folks can say “Look. I’m pouring sideways? Isn’t it cool?”
Is it because you might have the molinillo in your way if the handle were in the usual spot?
A last word on hot chocolate its very own self:
What was being served in those Georgian chocolate pots was not our familiar drink. Not exactly. It was made from the whole bean and contained all the cocoa butter. Cocoa powder, the basis of modern hot chocolate, has the fat removed.
The Ur hot chocolate would have been a heartier, higher-fat drink. Historial recipes indicate it was less sweet than the modern version. We’d find it slightly gritty in the mouth-feel experience because the hand-grind process produced fine particles that didn’t quite dissolve. The taste would vary from morning to morning since the beans — like expensive Yuppie coffees — were artisinal, small-estate-grown, and small-batch processed.
And Georgian hot chocolate was spiced with . . . well, lotsa stuff.
Red pepper, aniseed, cinnamon, orange flower water, almonds, cloves, nutmeg, black pepper. Sometimes it was made partly with wine, which sounds odd, frankly.
I haven’t experimented myself, but I bet you could recreate quite an interesting period recipe.
So. What’s your favorite hot chocolate drink? Any thoughts on stepping outside the everyday and heading back to the Georgians spices and peppers for a new take on an old favorite?
I found this pretty interesting even though I'm not a real big chocolate lover. The chocolate mill was pretty clever. Even today with our highly processed cocoa, you need to stir it or it all tends to settle at the bottom of the cup.
Though I have never tried it, I would probably like a little liquor in my hot chocolate. I certainly enjoy chocolate candies that have liquor in the middle of them (yum). Every now and then I'll put a little chocolate in my coffee. Not a big hot chocolate drinker.
Posted by: Mary T | Monday, May 13, 2019 at 03:30 PM
Where do you find this wonderful stuff, Jo? All interesting, but I was particularly taken by the abounding exceptions...
Posted by: mary jo putney | Monday, May 13, 2019 at 05:20 PM
"I have no idea what is going on with the hair on that kid."
I think the child's hair is tied up in "rags" to curl it into that delightful froth of bangs that was so popular at the time.
Posted by: Heather J | Monday, May 13, 2019 at 05:33 PM
I DID know that chocolate isn't quite caffeine, but might as well be. I tell my physicians, "I'm pretty well caffeine free — except for chocolate, of course."
And I keep a spoon in my hot cocoa or cold chocolate drink, to keep those particles suspended.
I make my own cocoa-mix, which is tailored to my allergies. It is low-fat, high-calcium, artificially sweetened (and when I add benefiber, high fiber for a milk drink).
I use dutch-process cocoa (which I suspect is younger than your period), and powdered non-fat milk, combined with skim milk.
Posted by: Sue McCormick | Monday, May 13, 2019 at 07:30 PM
This is such an interesting post. I love a nice cup of hot chocolate on a freezing cold day, a dollop of whipped cream makes a cup more decadent!!!!
Posted by: Maryellen Webber | Tuesday, May 14, 2019 at 02:17 AM
Oh Joanna, your piece was absolutely wonderful. Thank you. I loved all your descriptions, photos, and asides!!! How is it we've come (many people, anyway), to relegating hot chocolate to the winter? Just this past miserable rainy Sunday, my husband and I came home from a long day out, and I said, "what we need is hot chocolate." I don't do dairy, so we're currently using oat milk which produces an incredibly rich, creamy drink. And in terms of "spices," in my mind nothing beats a nice splash of Amaretto.
Posted by: Margaret | Tuesday, May 14, 2019 at 06:24 AM
When I was a kid, I didn't like milk, so my mother gave me chocolate milk—a spoonful of Bosco stirred into the glass. I still don't like milk, but I'm not crazy about chocolate either. I don't mind it, but it's not my flavor of choice. But I can see where a cup of not-too-sweet hot chocolate would be appealing if black coffee isn't available.
Posted by: Lillian Marek | Tuesday, May 14, 2019 at 06:44 AM
Very interesting topic and I loved the pictures. I am not that much into chocolate drinks - prefer coffee and tea. Most of us are not familiar with chocolate drinks other than instant. The work involved must have been a chore - to prepare and to clean up after. I would think adding flavors and liquors to the drink would be very good. To experience the way it was fixed back then would be a wonderful, educational, flavorful party.
Posted by: Margot | Tuesday, May 14, 2019 at 08:02 AM
I love hot chocolate, and like the Georgians I enjoy it with a touch of spice. I have a couple of spice mixtures that work well. A little cinnamon, ginger and cardamom is excellent, or a hint of chilli. I buy good, unsweetened rich cocoa powder and just add a little vanilla sugar to sweeten it slightly. I do make it with milk, though. Haven't gone totally Georgian! And while I have a fair collection of period coffee pots and tea pots, along with various cups and tea bowls, I don't have any chocolate pots. Sad, really. A definite lack in my life!
Posted by: Elizabeth Rolls | Tuesday, May 14, 2019 at 08:07 AM
Maybe we should have specialized pots with stirrers in them.
Mexican hot chocolate, which is a more complex delight and can be thick employs pretty, hand-carved molinillos which are a minor art form in themselves.
Historically, Georgian coffee was often made with brandy. Cool idea, says I.
Posted by: Joanne Bourne | Tuesday, May 14, 2019 at 09:12 AM
I picture them as one of the exotic deer species. Steenbok maybe. Or gerenuks.
Posted by: Joanne Bourne | Tuesday, May 14, 2019 at 09:15 AM
I thought so too, but then, the mom's hair has a couple similar ribbony things.
And they're not wearing informal morning dress. Undress. Which I assume they would be if they were still in hair papers.
Look at how the mom is quietly reaching out to steady her daughter's saucer. And the girl's hand up on the edge of the table.
So heart-warming.
Posted by: Joanne Bourne | Tuesday, May 14, 2019 at 09:18 AM
I am lucky enough to have an 18th century silver plate chocolate pot, with ebony side handle. No molinillo, alas.
Posted by: Peg from DC | Tuesday, May 14, 2019 at 09:23 AM
I know dried milk is after the Regency. It's the technological advancement that allowed milk chocolate.
Yeah dried milk, says I.
Dutching cocoa dates to 1828, which puts it just after the Regency. Extended Regency, as it were.
I would not want to write 1828 because of the leg-o-mutton sleeves, which I consider hideous.
Posted by: Joanne Bourne | Tuesday, May 14, 2019 at 09:24 AM
Hot chocolate and whipped cream is like Laurel and Hardy, Burns and Allen, Expansion of the Money Supply and Inflation ...
Posted by: Joanne Bourne | Tuesday, May 14, 2019 at 09:27 AM
You obviously know exactly how and when to enjoy hot chocolate.
Georgian hot chocolate was often made nondairy. Pulverized and finely ground almonds or pistachios cooked with the chocolate would essentially be adding nut milk to the mixture.
There might have been more dairy sensitives in 1800 than we realized.
Posted by: Joanne Bourne | Tuesday, May 14, 2019 at 09:30 AM
I like milk IN things, or as a baking ingredient. I don't just sit down and drink a glass of milk.
As I say above, recipes for hot chocolate don't necessarily include milk. Sometimes milk was added from a pitcher at the table. I imagine there were lots of Regency folk who drank their chocolate very much the way we drink black coffee.
Posted by: Joanne Bourne | Tuesday, May 14, 2019 at 09:34 AM
I think colonial Williamsburg -- and perhaps other re-enactment sites -- do the whole preparation process as a demonstration. They may sell olde tyme chocolate in packets.
It was a long involved process. One good reason to buy the drink in your local coffee house or tavern.
But then, in 1800, everything was a long process and laborious. Labor was relatively cheap and imported products were inherently expensive.
Coffee, tea, and chocolate were for the upper classes to drink after the working folk had prepared them.
Posted by: Joanne Bourne | Tuesday, May 14, 2019 at 10:11 AM
So few of us have antique chocolate pots. Itis a definite lack in modern life.
You are adventurous in your hot chocolate drinking. I congratulate you. What fun.
Posted by: Joanne Bourne | Tuesday, May 14, 2019 at 10:13 AM
It sounds lovely, especially the side handle.
What swagger to ride sidesaddle with your chocolate pot.
Posted by: Joanne Bourne | Tuesday, May 14, 2019 at 10:14 AM
It's wonderful that Mexican style chocolate for drinking is still sold in round wafers wrapped in plain paper, just like in your painting. The brand names I am thinking of are Ibarra, and Abuelita, which is now owned by Nestle. And they still use a molinillo too. I had it made that way when I was in Colombia, just like Georgian times!
Posted by: Karin | Tuesday, May 14, 2019 at 10:47 AM
Not merely like Georgian times. Like Aztec times. *g*
I have drunk Abuelita brand and found it good. I imagine that are others that would be interesting.
I wonder if there's a brand that uses the whole bean.
Posted by: Joanne Bourne | Tuesday, May 14, 2019 at 01:12 PM
Chocolate is a wonderful thing. Enough Said!
I am grateful to whoever it was who thought "Hey, this is gonna be something everyone loves."
Posted by: Annette N | Tuesday, May 14, 2019 at 01:30 PM
I enjoy Ghirardelli hot cocoa packets or the loose mix. It has a great flavor. I like today's chocolate without the extras the Georgians added.
Joanna, I believe the beautiful painting of a young girl with her mother shows her wearing cloth twisted around her hair to create curls. I read about this somewhere along the way.
Posted by: Patricia Franzino | Tuesday, May 14, 2019 at 05:37 PM
Thanks for a fascinating post, Joanna. I am a big lover of chocolate in many of its incarnations. I do not drink coffee or tea (okay, I'll have herbal tea if I'm sick), but I'm a big fan of hot chocolate (made with milk) which I drink in the morning year round. I don't care for spices in my hot chocolate but I could be persuaded to try some raspberry puree or orange oil. Like Patricia Franzino, I currently drink Ghiradelli chocolate, but I'd like to sample some other brands.
Posted by: Kareni | Wednesday, May 15, 2019 at 11:18 AM
Joanna, this topic makes me think of the Regency novel, Sorcery & Cecelia, or the Enchanted Chocolate Pot. It is a little different since it adds magic to the usual Regency world. But I really enjoyed read it -- several times!
Posted by: Jane | Wednesday, May 15, 2019 at 04:39 PM
The funny thing is, both cacao beans and coffee beans taste bitter in their original form.Not so attractive that one would go chomping on them in their natural state.
The story with coffee beans is that shepherds (or camel herders) noticed their flocks getting active and lively after feeding on coffee beans and decided to try them out themselves.
As I say, a story.
I suspect that in their bitter natural state they were tried out as medicine and perked the sick fellow -- or the initiate seeking interesting visions -- right up. The rest is history.
Jonathan Swift: "He was a bold man that first ate an oyster." I suppose the same is rue for cacao beans.
Posted by: Joanne Bourne | Thursday, May 16, 2019 at 11:16 AM
Curl papers ... or curl cloths. You're the second person who's opined this.
But, I dunnoh.
Tight tight little curls over the first half of the head and the rest left straight?
Posted by: Joanne Bourne | Thursday, May 16, 2019 at 11:18 AM
There's a lot of difference between brands and kinds of hot chocolate.
I'd recommend trying some of the Mexician hot chocolate recipes, just because they are so very different from American chocolate.
Posted by: Joanne Bourne | Thursday, May 16, 2019 at 11:20 AM
Sounds interesting.
I see this is a Patricia Wrede book. She's a great author. This is YA, for all you folks who enjoy settling back with a YA book.
https://www.amazon.com/Sorcery-Cecelia-Enchanted-Chocolate-Novels-ebook/dp/B007ZI07BM/ref=sr_1_3?keywords=Sorcery+%26+Cecelia&qid=1558030899&s=books&sr=1-3
Posted by: Joanne Bourne | Thursday, May 16, 2019 at 11:24 AM
I enjoyed this article as much as I enjoy a cup of hot chocolate, which is very much indeed.
Posted by: Cdavishammond | Sunday, May 19, 2019 at 11:00 AM
*g*
Posted by: Joanne Bourne | Sunday, May 19, 2019 at 01:27 PM