Chocolate Hazelnut Truffles

The second week of December, and the library is hosting its annual holiday book drive — collecting books for children who don't have home libraries, which is a population larger than most people realize and smaller than it should be. I have run this drive for twenty years, and every year I am moved by the generosity of people who bring books they loved and leave them for children they will never meet. The anonymity of the giving is the purest part. You don't give a book to be thanked. You give a book to change a life you will never witness changing.

Mama has been wrapping presents this week, which is to say she has been sitting at the dining table with wrapping paper and tape and scissors and producing packages that are wrapped with more enthusiasm than precision — paper crumpled, tape excessive, bows crooked. The packages are beautiful in the way that Joy's artwork is beautiful: made with love and without technique, and the combination produces something that no skilled wrapper could replicate. I do not rewrap them. I display them under the tree, crumpled and taped and perfect.

Robert has been building in the workshop every evening — a project he won't discuss, which means it's a Christmas gift, which means it's probably a bookshelf, because Robert's answer to every occasion is a bookshelf and Naomi's answer to every bookshelf is books. The marriage is, at its core, a man who builds shelves and a woman who fills them, and the simplicity of this arrangement — supply and demand, container and contained — is more romantic than anything either of us has ever said out loud.

James asked me this week what I want for Christmas. I said, "A morning in the kitchen with Mama where she remembers everything." He looked at me with the gravity of a young man who understands that some gifts cannot be purchased, and he said, "I'll write it down," meaning in the journal, meaning he will document the next morning of clarity so that even after Mama forgets, the morning will exist somewhere — in ink, on paper, in the library of a grandson's love.

I made eggnog — the real kind, with eggs and bourbon and cream and nutmeg, the kind that Mama made every Christmas Eve in Beaufort and that I now make every December because the recipe is a bridge between the parsonage and this house, between Mama's hands and mine, between what was and what is. The eggnog was thick and rich and slightly too strong, which is exactly how Mama makes it, and the excess of bourbon was not a mistake but a philosophy: Christmas is not the season for restraint.

The eggnog was already made and the workshop light was still on when I decided the evening needed one more thing — something to set out on the counter the way Mama used to set things out, not as a course or a plan but as an offering. These chocolate hazelnut truffles are that kind of food: no occasion required, no technique that can’t be learned in a single December, and the same philosophy as the book drive and the crooked bows and James’s journal — you make them to give them, and the giving is the whole point.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 5 minutes | Total Time: 2 hours 25 minutes (includes chilling) | Servings: 24 truffles

Ingredients

8 oz good-quality dark chocolate (60–70% cacao), finely chopped
1/2 cup heavy cream
3 tablespoons chocolate hazelnut spread (such as Nutella)
1 tablespoon unsalted butter, softened
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Pinch of fine sea salt
1/2 cup finely chopped toasted hazelnuts, for rolling
1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder, for rolling
2 oz dark chocolate, melted (optional, for dipping)

Instructions

Melt the ganache base. Place the chopped dark chocolate in a heatproof bowl. In a small saucepan over medium heat, warm the heavy cream until it just begins to simmer — do not boil. Pour the hot cream over the chocolate and let it sit undisturbed for 2 minutes.
Combine and smooth. Add the hazelnut spread, softened butter, vanilla extract, and salt to the bowl. Stir gently from the center outward until the mixture is completely smooth and glossy. If any chocolate pieces remain, set the bowl over a pot of barely simmering water and stir until melted.
Chill the ganache. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap, pressing the wrap directly onto the surface of the chocolate. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours, or until the ganache is firm enough to scoop.
Prepare the coatings. Spread the chopped toasted hazelnuts on one plate and the cocoa powder on another. If using melted chocolate for dipping, set it aside in a small bowl at room temperature.
Shape the truffles. Using a small melon baller or a tablespoon, scoop portions of the chilled ganache and quickly roll each one between your palms into a rough ball. Work fast — warmth from your hands is the only enemy here, and imperfection is entirely acceptable.
Coat and finish. Roll each truffle in either the chopped hazelnuts or the cocoa powder until evenly coated. Alternatively, dip in melted chocolate and then roll in hazelnuts before the coating sets.
Set and store. Place finished truffles on a parchment-lined baking sheet and refrigerate for 15 minutes to firm up. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to two weeks — though they rarely last that long.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chocolate Hazelnut Truffles — The Kind of Christmas That Asks Nothing Back