Cowgirl Chocolates: Spicy Dark Huckleberry

I'm back. This time, I have a job (thus the lag in posts.) But I also have a bounty of chocolate to get through, and this being Summer (now officially,) it's all sitting in my fridge, getting chalky. So I'm determined to return to a regular blogging schedule so as to minimize the time that these beauties -- the identities of which I'll reveal in due time -- spend withering away in the icebox. This one came from Eli's of Manhattan, which has an excellent, albeit exclusively high-end, selection of bars.

Cowgirl Chocolates: Spicy Dark Huckleberry
Cocoa content: 55%
Notable ingredients: whole huckleberries; cayenne pepper
Origin: n/a

First things first: what are huckleberries? I know, so I am just playing dumb, but some of you probably haven't met this forward fruit. It's kind of like a cross between a blueberry and a currant -- and here they're left whole, dried, and encased in semi-sweet chocolate. It could almost be too strong a flavor for a chocolate like this, but it's balanced by a remarkably spicy yet well-blended dose of powdered cayenne pepper -- two bold flavors make for a surprisingly pleasant taste -- pleasant, but kind of overwrought. Like an iPad.

One thing that disappointed me was this: an excess of weird ingredients. This is something I've been thinking about a lot recently, which I'll elaborate on in a later post. Cocoa liquor, cocoa butter, soy lecithin, high fructose corn syrup, vegetable oil. What are these things doing in chocolate? In short, emulsifying, dumbing-down, and cheapening -- they make the bar more palatable and smooth, and they save money and cut corners. In my mind there's nothing wrong with these techniques as long as the flavor doesn't suffer -- but still, there's an interesting conversation to be had about sincere, old-fashioned chocolate making, and the virtues of whole foods. We'll have it.

That's all for now. Next time, a riveting behind-the-scenes look at one of this city's own chocolate factories. B+.

Vosges: Black Pearl

Vosges has about a million bars, and this is one that I've not blogged about yet. Wonja got this bar for me at Dave's Fresh Pasta in Somerville, MA -- they sell the mini Vosges bars, which are only about 0.5 oz. Those provide a great way to taste the chocolate without paying $10 or whatever they're charging for the 3 oz. bars these days. Vosges bars are expensive but they're always good. Except when they're not.

Vosges: Black Pearl
Cocoa content: 55%
Notable ingredients: wasabi, ginger, black sesame seeds
Origin: n/a

Every Vosges bar has a little anecdote about the inspiration behind the bar's flavors. You can read these on the website. The inspiration for this bar is Japan -- wasabi is presented as the base flavor around which the rest of the bar is designed, but I actually thought the taste of ginger was most pervasive. The wasabi in this bar wasn't like the nostril-clearing hotness that you get with the actual wasabi mustard that accompanies sushi. But it had that hard-to-describe wasabi taste: vinegary and slightly sour, tasting of preservation and earthy like cabbage. Are people going to give me a hard time if I talk about umami? I'll give it a rest.

The black sesame seeds were a nice touch, too. They were left whole so they provided a little bit of toasted-tasting crunch to break up the already snappy chocolate. The only thing that I didn't love about this bar was the cocoa content. 55% seems so non-committal. Go milk or go dark -- or go home, because I shudder to think of how white chocolate would mix with wasabi.

I think the best Vosges bar I've had to date was the Naga bar, which is inspired by Indian spice combinations, or the Peanut Butter Bonbon bar (which clearly needs no inspiration, nor an explanation thereof.) Next up on my short list is the Black Salt Caramel bar, which marries black Hawaiian sea salt with burnt sugar caramel. This bar was delicious in terms of the flavors but could have used a more decisive proportion of cocoa, I think. It gets a B+.

Salazon Chocolate Co.: Sea Salt & Crushed Organic Coffee

I had never heard of this company until I saw this bar last week at the Whole Foods on the Bowery. Salazon was established in 2009 by a group of hikers who -- seriously -- realized chocolate went well with salt when they broke up a dark chocolate bar and added it to their trail mix. I mean, I feel like: hello! But you can't expect everyone to know these things. Anyway, these hikers sat around a campfire and talked about turning their revelation into a business model. Thus Salazon (meaning "salted" in Spanish) was born in the mountains of Utah.

Salazon Chocolate Co.: Sea Salt & Crushed Organic Coffee
Cocoa content: 54%
Notable ingredients: sea salt; crushed organic coffee
Origin: predominantly from the DR

All of the Salazon chocolate bars -- of which there are presently 4 -- are salted by default. Salt is pretty much always good in a chocolate bar, and I like the way this bar uses the salt. Instead of integrating it, they scatter the flaky sea salt on the underside surface of the bar. The coffee is distributed this way, too. The top of the bar is smooth, the interior of the bar is consistent and uninterrupted, and the bottom surface of the bar is covered in flakes of salt and coffee. It creates an interesting texture and, I think, makes better use of the good ingredients. They're just so much easier to taste this way.

Salazon says they don't make a milk chocolate bar because they see chocolate as an energy food, as opposed to a candy. That's fine -- but the fact that all of their bars have a cocoa content of 54% seems restrictive to me. Salt and coffee, especially, would work nicely with a higher percentage. Also, chocolate doesn't have to be unhealthy, but let's face it: it's not hiking food. This bar comes in a paper wrapper with a foil inner wrapper, has absolutely no perforation lines for clean, portioned breaks, and tends to be really messy because of the flaky bottom surface.

Even so, it's really tasty. Hopefully more stores will be carrying these within the next year. B+.

Komforte Chockolates: Ramen Noodle

Well I told you I'd be back to discuss this, the eighth wonder of the world, the Ramen Noodle chocolate bar. Pork fat and dark chocolate: two unspeakably delicious things, and yet never the twain shall meet. Or so you thought! And, if you indeed thought that, it turns out you were right -- the "ramen" in this chocolate bar consists of a couple of mildly crunchy, dehydrated wheat noodles, unenthusiastically snaking their way throughout the hefty chocolate. No pork fat to speak of, and thus, to my mind, no pleasure.

Komforte Chockolates: Ramen Noodle
Cocoa content: 53%
Notable ingredients: noodles; soy sauce
Origin: n/a

Texture does not a ramen experience make. And even if that it did make, that it doesn't achieve here: the embedded noodles were too tired and stale to have retained any real crispiness. Plus, they were few and far between. In one large square of the bar, I encountered only about two noodles.

The chocolate was not nearly as good as the milk chocolate in the last Komforte bar I had, with French Toast. What kind of cocoa percentage is 53%? It's about 20 points above the normal cocoa content for milk chocolate, and just under 20 points below that elusive dark chocolate jackpot of 72%. What were they aiming for? Blandness aside, the consistency of the chocolate was chewy and dried-out. Maybe this bar took a long trip before it arrived at my doorstep among other, less curious Hanukkah gifts (thanks to Michael!) but still -- age doesn't explain the totally lackluster consistency.

Ramen, chocolate -- neither were represented fairly here. I want to boost this bar's score for creativity points, but the truth is, Komforte brought nothing interesting about ramen to the table here: no extra salt, no weird porky modification -- even the noodles sucked. Sadly, this bar gets a C.

Ritter Sport: Yogurt

I got this bar -- one of the last Ritter Sport bars that I haven't tried -- from my friend Mia. I was curious about the consistency of the yogurt because I figured it would just spill out if I snapped off a piece of the bar -- the little squares on Ritter bars aren't capsules like that Lindt yogurt bar I once had. As it turned out, the yogurt magically stayed in place, and my time with this bar has been a festival of creaminess.

Ritter Sport: Yogurt
Cocoa content: 55%
Notable ingredients: yogurt
Origin: n/a

So on Ritter Sport's website, the yogurt in this bar is described as 45% skimmed milk yogurt. I don't know how much yogurt is typically skimmed, but this yogurt was pretty solid and dry, almost more like an almond paste or crumbly white chocolate. But still -- it was exceedingly creamy. And whereas that last yogurt bar was a little too sweet, this was the kind of yogurt I like -- tangy and a little sour.

The way it blended with the chocolate was really delicious. Both the chocolate and the yogurt retained their sweet and milky notes while melting together, and the sharpness of the yogurt was kind of tempered by the chocolate. I only had an issue with the way the bar broke apart -- because of the consistency of the yogurt, the pieces sort of tore softly rather than snapped -- which undermines Ritter Sport's slogan for this bar: "Why spoon when you can snap?"

But overall it was interesting and creamy and good. I wonder if I should have refrigerated it? A-.

Migros: Cremant

My traveling buddy -- and by that I mean my buddy who travels, not my buddy with whom I travel, because I haven't traveled very much recently beyond my usual New York-Massachusetts-New Jersey circuit -- brought this bar home to me from Switzerland! Migros is one of Switzerland's biggest supermarket chains, I guess, and being that Switzerland is the sort of unofficial chocolate capital of Europe, I had reasonably high hopes for this dark milk bar.

Migros: Cremant
Cocoa content: 53%
Notable ingredients: n/a
Origin: n/a

So the French word cremant sort of translates to.. creaming? That can't be right. Let's hope not. This bar was, however, exceptionally creamy, and it absolutely exceeded my expectations for what supermarket chocolate could accomplish. The last supermarket-brand chocolate bar I had on this blog was from Tesco, and that turned out to be a chalky, graceless nightmare. I'm thankful for this vast improvement. Plus, I love the packaging -- what the hell are those things, Raisinettes!?

This was a melty, full-bodied treasure. I loved the velvety, dense -- here I want to say "mouthfeel" but I won't -- you get the idea. This was dark milk chocolate at its best! This is a bar that I'd expect from a chocolate company -- not from a chain supermarket. But you know what, I've encountered surprises left and right in this crazy world: did you know Brody Jenner is dating Avril Lavigne!? Things are not always what they seem.

The Cremant bar has restored my faith in the existence of really good supermarket-brand chocolate. Cheers to that! A-.

Chocolat Moderne: Kashmir Spice

Readers: Is Whole Foods taunting you with gorgeous chocolate displays? My local Whole Foods has set up this nice little table by the coffee counter and on it they've artfully displayed some of the most beautiful chocolate bars I've ever seen, along with some other special treats like Herrell's chocolate fudge (of Boston!) And this is in addition to the quarter aisle that is already devoted entirely to chocolate -- which, in some towns, offers the best selection around. I've been taunted - and enticed - by this bar for weeks, so I finally decided to shell out $8 for it. Actually -- make that $40, when you take into account the other 4 that I needed to complete this photo. Just kidding -- camera is on the fritz.

Chocolat Moderne: Kashmir Spice

Cocoa content: 51%

Notable ingredients: toffee; cardamom; cinnamon; cloves

Origin: n/a

What is with me and chai spices recently? I feel like I am forever trying to relive the wonder that was that Montezuma's Nutmeg bar -- but, alas, none of these more recent chai bars contain nutmeg. This Chocolat Moderne bar was in fact a little different because it included toffee, too. Actually, the toffee itself may have been infused with the chai spices, which would mean this was a chai toffee chocolate bar.

At first, I didn't respect this bar. I left it on my desk during one of the hottest days of the summer when my AC wasn't on, and when I tried it for the first time it was obviously soft and chewy. Then I stuck it in the fridge for a few days, and when I tried it again the whole bar had shifted a bit, such that squares were no longer squares and the toffee stuck out in parts where the chocolate had thinned, crag-like.

So I felt like there was something wrong with the texture of this bar, but that might have been entirely my fault. I thought the toffee stood out too much from the other flavors, that it was too tough and hard for the consistency of the chocolate, and that eating it was a separate experience from tasting the chai spices. The chocolate tasted more or less like those Le Pain Quotidien and Dolfin bars -- the remains of which, by the way, I crumbled into a bowl of dough so as to make Chai Chocolate Chip cookies.

So I might have missed my chance to sample this bar in its prime, but as we've seen before on this blog, there are other spiced bars in the sea. B.

Taza: Cacao Puro

This post doubles as a chocolate bar review and an event review -- the event being the UnFancy Food Show, which took place in Gowanus this past weekend. Organic, single-origin cocoa ground in traditional Mexican stone mills? Sounds pretty fancy to me, readers, but that's just one chocolate knower's opinion. Anyway, the fact that this bar is getting reviewed this week means it won out over several other, more local chocolate purveyors. More on that below.

Taza: Cacao Puro
Cocoa content: 55%
Notable ingredients: NONE!*
Origin: Dominican Republic

*So, why the big deal about none of the ingredients being notable? Really, the ingredients are kind of notable compared to most ingredients found in unfancy -- I mean literally unfancy -- chocolate bars; the beans are single origin Dominican, and ground only twice in a stone mill as opposed to a steel refiner. And the sugar is real cane sugar -- no relation whatsoever to corn. But.. that's it. This bar has only two ingredients. "The purest expression of our chocolate," says Taza's website. Glad to have known you so intimately!

Taza is a chocolate maker based in Somerville, MA, which is right near my hometown. As it happens, the guy who was working at the Taza booth was from Arlington, MA, and we had a nice little conversation about that. He encouraged me to try their special edition Chiapan bar, which was excellent -- but this blogger doesn't fuck with $9 treats, so I opted instead for a little disc of the Cacao Puro, at $4 a pop.

Cacao Puro is better than expected given that it is not cut with butter fat (one of my favorite things.) It's nice and sweet and the chocolate itself has a great flavor -- maybe not "wine-like," as the site purports, but nicely nutty and rich. Most Dominican beans are. The thing that irks me is the stone mill. I find the consistency of stone-milled chocolate too grainy, and insufficiently melty. This didn't interfere with my ability to enjoy the bar to the same extent that the Almond bar did, but still I prefer something a little creamier and neater.

I told you I was going to kvetch about the other chocolate makers represented at the UnFancy Food Show. Fine and Raw is -- sorry -- kind of nasty, and Nunu doesn't make chocolate bars (get with it!) Plus Taza had the Eastern MA connection appeal, and that's what I had to go with. The Food Show itself was really fun -- lots of wonderful pickled vegetables and homemade cheese and the best bloody Mary mix ever.

Interesting concept, adorable packaging, noble origins, but this bar gets a B.

Vosges: Peanut Butter Bonbon

I know I had a Vosges bar on this blog somewhat recently, and I try not to do repeats, but I do try to do repeats of other-worldly flavors like that of salt and peanut butter sweetly co-mingling in a sea of deep milk chocolate. Luckily, I was presented with such an opportunity when I received this bar as a gift last week, and take it I did.

Vosges: Peanut Butter Bonbon
Cocoa content: 45%
Notable ingredients: peanut butter; pink Himalayan salt; Maldon sea salt
Origin: n/a

I said a few weeks ago that jalapenos and peanuts were the Chuck and Blair of candy bars, but I think it's more like this: chocolate and peanut butter are Chuck and Blair, and everything else is Vanessa.. or Hillary Duff. Take your pick. There is no love like that between chocolate and peanut butter, and the experience is only heightened by the addition of salt -- two kinds, no less.

Honestly, this is no Reese's Cup. This is delicious, moist, nutty peanut butter and perfectly complimentary chocolate, with little salt deposits hidden in each taste to highlight the flavors. This is definitely one of the tastiest -- if not the tastiest -- Vosges bar that I've ever had, and all of them are good. To this day, the only criticism I have of Vosges or their products is the gimmicky sensory instructions on the back: "rub your thumb on the bar to help warm the chocolate and release the aromas"? Just because the Peanut Butter Bonbon bar is the high-rent version of the Reese's doesn't mean you have to kneel at its altar; you probably shouldn't be rubbing your grubby fingers on any candy unless you're 3 years old.

That said, if you are 3 years old, or 103 years old, this is the candy bar for you given that you are prepared to spend about $10 on a 3 oz. treat. Cough it up, but don't rub it out. A.

Vosges: Naga Bar

Most people know what Vosges is. The company is becoming one of the most well-known "luxury" chocolate makers in the country -- their flavor combinations are way more out-there than, say, Lindt's or Ghirardelli's, but they're sold in some of the same places. Anyone in the New York area who hasn't been to one of the Vosges shops -- SoHo or the Upper East Side -- should definitely go there to try truffles and hot chocolate. I don't often buy these because they're usually about $9, but Dave's of Somerville was having a sale: $6.25!

Vosges: Naga Bar
Cocoa content: 45%
Notable ingredients: sweet Indian curry powder; coconut flakes
Origin: n/a

I didn't treat this bar right. It's hard to even tell my readers. It has been unseasonably warm this past week, and my dorm room lacks not only an air conditioner, but a refrigerator as well. Furthermore, you're not even supposed to refrigerate chocolate -- so even if I had refrigerated the Naga bar, shit still wouldn't have been right. I kept it in my drawer, which seemed like the safest, coolest place in the room -- but it still got sweaty and a little soft. It didn't lose its shape, but it certainly lost its snap -- and with it, some of its style and panache.

Still, I could tell it was a good find. Texturally it was kind of a mess (my fault entirely,) but the flavors were still there and the pleasing chewiness of the coconut flakes was especially notable. Curry is an interesting alternative to chili for spicy inclusion: it gave the bar a little bit of a bite, but was also kind of sweet and flavorful in a way that hot spice isn't. The coconut was a nice way to balance out the curry, and a welcome crunchy interruption to the creamy, deep milk -- which was only made creamier by my shameful neglect.

On the back of the box, Vosges founder Katrina suggests to the taster that "you may experience nuances of caramel, dairy, vegetables, jasmine flowers, fruit, roasted tobacco, raw coffee, nuttiness, spiciness," etc. No -- this was not the case -- but still, the bar was delicious and the flavor concept unlike anything I've ever had. A-.

Casa Don Puglisi: Vanilla

Somebody named Don Guiseppe Puglisi has a "confectionary laboratory" in Modica, Sicily, and in this laboratory he cold-presses nasty chocolate bars and wraps them in wax paper, natural cardstock, and twine. My uncle gave me this chocolate bar, and I thought it would be delicious because the packaging is so elegant. But I've learned never to judge a chocolate bar by its cover, because what lurked beneath was a brittle, grainy mess.

Casa Don Puglisi: Vanilla
Cocoa content: 45%
Notable ingredients: n/a
Origin: n/a

In the spirit of Passover, I'll start the discussion this way: Why is this bar different from all other bars? I knew the bar had a unique texture as soon as I opened it: Don Puglisi calls it a "unique, opaque patina," and it kind of looks like little grains of chocolate are all pressed together, with nooks and crannies abound. The method Puglisi uses is called "cold pressing" -- it means that the cocoa paste is pressed with sugar granules without being heated up because apparently heating ruins the flavor of the chocolate. It's apparently an Aztec tradition, but Taza Chocolate (based in Somerville, MA) is also made in the Aztec tradition and their products are usually great -- with some notable exceptions.

Now, I should be clear about one thing. Brittle, in and of itself, is not necessarily a problem. I covet brittle dogs, and peanut brittle. The thing I didn't like about this chocolate was the graininess of it -- each bite was a crumbling mess of chocolate and sugar granules. They didn't melt, but rather loosed themselves from the bite and spread out and, in the process, made it difficult to determine a coherent flavor. Without any sort of creaminess to the texture, the acidity of the chocolate is unpleasant and all the little particles are uncomfortable.

All that said, this is one kind of chocolate that is made in a particular way. It's not supposed to taste like other chocolate, but that doesn't make up for the fact that it tastes and feels bad. I've known many treats, all with their own virtues, and this bar wasn't working for me. C-.

Rapunzel: Dark Chocolate with Hazelnuts

So, obviously I didn't take this picture. I couldn't seem to get a good picture of this bar with my own camera -- partly due to the lighting in my room, but possibly also because of how ugly it is. More on that later. This bar represents my return to Westchester. Michael got it for me at the Village Natural Market in Bronxville, where I get most of my chocolate while in school. This bar seemed to be just about the last one there that I hadn't tried though, so I'm going to have to find somewhere else to shop soon. Anyway:

Rapunzel: Dark Chocolate with Hazelnuts

Cocoa content: 55%*

Notable ingredients: hazelnuts

Origin: n/a

On my bar the label says "dark." On this picture above, they call it "semisweet." I think the latter is more accurate given this cocoa content.

How did this chocolate bar get to be so busted, you ask? Honestly, I'll never understand why decent chocolate companies tend to drop the ball on wrapper design -- isn't that, like 80% of why you're buying the chocolate? And even the companies who clearly try to de-emphasize packaging in favor of highlighting some special bean-to-bar organic product aren't necessarily skimping -- minimalism can be cool, too (Fine & Raw comes to mind.)

The last time I ate an ugly bar of chocolate, it turned out to be sub-par, i.e. ugly on the inside, too. Rapunzel, in contrast, has made a pretty delicious product, and then decided to risk it all by selling it in this mess of a wrapper. I can't tell you how many times I passed this bar up because of how it looks -- true, I eventually bought it (well, indicated that I wanted it bought for me,) but I buy an unspeakable amount of chocolate compared to the average person. Its turn had to come up sometime or other.

The snap was good, the hazelnuts nicely roasted and distributed evenly and subtly throughout so as to make itself known in the texture. I wouldn't have expected a bar of this cocoa content to be so sweet, so I'm guessing they added a lot of cane sugar -- always a plus. Also, the wrapper reports that Rapunzel conches for up to 24 hours, which is allegedly a lot longer than most companies conch for.

So, I sort of feel like: if you got it, flaunt it! Let down your long hair. And hire a new graphic designer. B+.

Trader Joe's: Dark Chocolate w/ Raisins & Pecans

Trader Joe's -- this one being in Millburn, NJ -- is known more for their chocolate covered things than for their chocolate bars -- right? They cover virtually everything in chocolate, and it's all delicious: sunflower seeds, edamame, pretzels. But I thought their chocolate bars were worth a try, because they're really cheap and come in some interesting flavors.

Trader Joe's: Dark Chocolate w/ Raisins & Pecans

Cocoa content: 57%

Notable ingredients: raisins, pecans

Origin: n/a

We can probably all agree that Trader Joe's is a little bit hit or miss. The frozen Indian entree is sensational, but the naan is doughy and limp. The yogurt selection is expansive, but flour is out of stock -- etcetera, etcetera, you have to know how to shop there. I guess somewhere in the back of my mind I thought this bar might be covertly amazing, but I realized something when it proved not to be: cheap chocolate never turns out to be amazing. If a 3 ounce bar costs $8, comes in an exquisite wrapper, and prints a whole manifesto about how to consume and savor it on the back label, you can expect it to be good -- and still, sometimes it will disappoint. But really cheap, unpretentious chocolate never turns out to be anything so spectacular, as evidenced by bars from Tesco, Hershey, and the like.

In keeping with the rule outlined above, this bar was really average, and not at all exciting or surprising. The cocoa content lurked in that murky, unnecessary space between milk and dark, where the creaminess has vanished but the texture has no snap to speak of. The bite was thick and chewy, the flavor kind of dusty and dry, and the ingredients uninspired. In fact, I don't think I even really tasted any pecans. But the raisins, as always, made this bar into more of a trail mix experience.

I think I've learned to stick to the chocolate covered confections when it comes to Trader Joe's. This bar gets a C.

Mitzi Blue by Zotter: Thank You

I may have waxed nostalgic about Zotter, the German chocolate manufacturer, on this blog before. They used to sell their beautiful hand-scooped bars at the Food Emporium chocolate shop I go to on upper 3rd Avenue, but no longer (the salesperson couldn't tell me why.) But, when I returned to the store the other day, I was happy to see that they do still sell some Zotter products. This is a bar from the Mitzi Blue line, named after a sky blue vintage car custom designed for Mitzi Koch.

Mitzi Blue by Zotter: Thank You

Cocoa content: 36%

Notable ingredients: cashews

Origin: n/a

The "Thank You" bar is so named because it was created by Zotter as a sort of material expression of thanks: "only for very special people and for things that cannot be taken for granted," says the box. Why cashews? None of the other Mitzi Blue flavors are named after the sentiments they are meant to express -- there's almond/cherry, strawberry/cocoa, and even spicy sheep milk (!) -- but cashews are singled-out as the flavor of gratefulness.

The chocolate is a dark but milky brown, thin, shaped in a round approximately the size of a big coaster, and divided into segments in a shattered-glass pattern. The texture is intensely chewy and thick, an indication of quality milk chocolate. But Zotter advises not to chew, despite the temptation: "Let the chocolate melt on your tongue for a while, then press it gently to your palate and stroke it lightly with your tongue, so that it melts slowly," instructs the packaging, suggestively. I did, and let's just say it was the right way to go. The flavor and sweetness was so rich and expansive that I couldn't believe I'd only eaten such a tiny piece.

Back to the question -- why cashews? In amounts this small, I feel that cashews are basically indistinguishable from peanuts. The salt is, as we've seen, a great companion for chocolate, and the pieces were of a small enough size such that they provided a pleasant, but not overwhelming crunch to the texture of the bar. So, in sum -- I don't know how well this bar says thank you, but it was definitely delicious, and aesthetically pleasing as well.

This bar gets an A-. Thank you, Zotter.

Museu de la Xocolata: Xocolata Negra amb Gingebre

Ok folks, the jig is up -- I did go to the Museum of Chocolate in Barcelona, otherwise known as the Museu de la Xocolata, in the freaky world of Catalan. The museum is located in the Born district of Barcelona, in a former convent that now houses a chocolate kitchen in addition to the museum space. This was another New York Times recommendation, and I can't say it was really worth more than the gift shop. The exhibit was mildly interesting if somewhat hokey and badly translated -- it addresses the discovery and cultivation of the cocoa bean, and displays a bunch of chocolate sculptures: depictions of the French cartoon character Asterix, for example, in glistening, dewy confection. Again, the gift shop was the main event -- the Museu carries a wide variety of Catalonian products, as well as a collection of bars made right at the museum. Mine belonged to the latter category.

Museu de la Xocolata: Xocolata Negra amb Gingebre

Cocoa content: 51%

Notable ingredients: dried ginger

Origin: n/a

The Museu-made bars all came in vibrant colors, and their titles were written only in Catalan. Some of them, like this one, I could make out, but my initial instinct was to not play it safe with the ginger bar. I passed up on many bars because I could tell that they had a base of white chocolate -- much of which appears to be eaten in Barcelona, oddly enough. One interesting looking bar, titled "mel y met," almost became an impulse selection before the saleswoman informed me that it meant "honey and cheese" -- with chocolate? Talk about a Bad Romance!

So I went with ginger -- and let me tell you, ginger it was. This has been the most gingery ginger bar I've ever had in all my days -- almost approaching the level of ginger brittle, if such a thing existed. This was ginger with a side of chocolate, like a ginger bread cookie with chocolate instead of flour. Is this a sin? I do like ginger quite a bit, hence the 5 times it has showed up on this blog already.

The ultimate verdict, however, is that this is too much. 12% ginger, boasts the nutritional label, a figure which amounts to nearly 25% of the total amount of cocoa solids. The chocolate is visibly flecked with golden ginger shavings throughout, such that I couldn't take an untainted nibble if I tried -- even if I nibbled gingerly. The quality of chocolate was difficult to detect given the overriding spice, but I was sure that it was a little bit too sweet, and possibly a little dried out. Granted, I did drag it on 4 flights with me, ultimately stopping in 3 countries. I was a little dried out, too.

I was glad to have known this bar nonetheless, and pretty glad to have known the Museu de la Xocolata -- which, by the way, issues little house-made chocolate bars instead of entrance tickets! Ga, ga, ooh la la. I give it a B.

Escriba: Xocolata Crik-Crak

I'm back to talk about Barcelona bar no. 2 -- I bought this mammoth of a bar at the Pasteleria Escriba on Las Ramblas, near the Boqueria Market. This place is a sweet little chocolate cafe that I learned about via the New York Times Barcelona travel guide. Full disclosure: basically all of my travels are motivated primarily by food and secondarily by the thrill of the chocolate hunt -- so no, I don't just happen upon these places. Escriba sells gigantic, moderately priced chocolate bars as well as a huge assortment of truffles, cookies, and cakes. The woman behind the counter spoke only Catalan, so I bought this bar without much information. It wasn't until I got outside the store and took a closer look at the ingredients that I learned that Crik-Crak is basically a glorified Nestle Crunch bar! Glad to have known you -- to say the very least.

Escriba: Xocolata Crik-Crak

Cocoa content: 40%

Notable ingredients: arros inflat (puffed rice)

Origin: n/a

First, I should alert you -- Pasteleria Escriba has probably the most darling website on all the internets. And actually, everything about Escriba and this bar is charming. The chocolate has its own little box with a flap-slot closure, and, as you can see, is adorned with a pretty mosaic pattern. This, and the name "crik-crak" -- the Catalan equivalent of "snap, crackle, pop", I guess -- are entirely evocative of the puffed rice sensation. This bar is much more rice-filled than the Nestle Crunch bar, for one thing. On the surface, the chocolate looks smooth, but on the underside it's bubbling with the crispy, chocolate-coated arros inflat.

And it should go without saying that this chocolate is much, much better. It contains about twice as much cocoa solid content, and tastes creamy and rich as opposed to Nestle's dry, dusty -- almost sour flavor. Not that I'm trying to hate on the Nestle Crunch bar -- lord knows I enjoyed many of those -- not to mention Buncha Crunch -- as a teenage movie-goer.

In sum, puffed rice can benefit all chocolate bars, high and low -- and possibly other situations, chocolatey or otherwise. I award this bar a B+.

Cocoa Bean Chocolate Co.: Sea Salt

Lol lol lol yes, all laughs aside, obviously I did not take this picture because I'm not one to waste money on the cuteness of little/big pairs. I could complain more about the internet in Ireland but you know how that goes. Instead, let's talk about the wonders of chocolate bars. This week's theme: Under the Sea.

Cocoa Bean Chocolate Co.: Sea Salt

Cocoa content: 53%

Notable ingredients: flaked Maldon sea salt

Origin: n/a

Cocoa Bean Chocolate Co. is a pretty adorable-looking company run by two sisters from Limerick. They started making this stuff in their kitchen, basically, a few years ago, and have since set up in County Kerry (southern Ireland) to manufacture. They have some really wacky flavor combinations, which we'll hopefully see more of in the coming months. I got this bar at McCambridge's in Galway, which is a terrific specialty foods store comparable to Formaggio and Cardullo's, both in Cambridge, MA.

I've had varying degrees of luck with my sea salt bars on this blog: Nirvana was way too salty, Vosges was just right (see salt entries here.) It's a tricky balance to achieve and it can taste like a supermarket cookie if the cocoa content is too low. I think this bar did a fabulous job and could even have been a few shades milkier, as Vosges's salt bar was. The snap here was really great, and the bar broke smoothly and cleanly -- no air bubbly inconsistencies here, which is impressive for such a small company.

You'll be seeing a lot more chocolate from McCambridge's on this blog -- they have a great selection of local things. I may have been wrong about Ireland's chocolate skills after all! This bar gets an A-.

Blake's: Dark Truffle Chocolate w/ Cocoa Nibs

As you can probably tell, the Irish chocolate bars have been slowly trickling in as I familiarize myself with Galway and its offerings. I got this bar -- which is made by one of the original 14 tribes of Galway -- at a health food market called Evergreen. It's no Whole Foods (e.g. there's no ICELANDIC representation) or anything but they have some things that will keep my occupied in the coming weeks.

Blake's: Dark Truffle Chocolate w/ Cocoa Nibs
Cocoa content: 55%
Notable ingredients: roasted nibs
Origin: Dominican Republic

This bar was of immediate interest to me on three levels: its cocoa content is in the dark milk range, it has roasted cocoa nibs, which I love, and thirdly: it's made of truffle chocolate! I'd never had such a bar, and when I really think of it, I'm not too sure what truffle chocolate is. I know what chocolate truffles are, though, so we'll go from there.

Truffles are basically just chocolate ganache encased in hard chocolate. This was no truffle insofar as there was no distinct filling within the chocolate casing. But the inside was definitely kind of soft and creamy, much moreso than other chocolates with more than a 35% cocoa content. It tasted like a subtle, slightly firmer ganache, which melted easily but didn't explode with liquidy filling; nor did the ganache settle in one half of the chocolate casing, as truffle contents often do.

As for the roasted nibs, they were plentiful and provided a perfect crunchy accompaniment for the -- we'll call it ''ganache.'' Nibs are always great to have around unless they're too big, but these ones were perfectly small and crunchy, enhancing without overwhelming the creaminess. I thoroughly enjoyed this bar and hope to try more of Blake's chocolates.. this one gets an A-.

Vosges: Goji Bar

I realized a couple of weeks ago that I had yet to review a Vosges bar on this website and thought about how embarrassing it would be if people thought I hadn't tried this fancy bar. BEEN THERE, done that, of course, but it's definitely time I wrote a word or two about Vosges since everyone seems to encounter it sometime or other in a Whole Foods and remark about the funny flavors. This bar was, comparatively, low key:

Vosges: Goji Bar

Cocoa content: 41%

Notable ingredients: goji berries, pink Himalayan salt

Origin: n/a

Vosges is tuned into the aesthetic of chocolate, as evidenced by their directions for how to optimize sensory experience, on the back of each bar: See, Smell, Snap, Taste, Feel -- these are some of the non-FDA evaluated ways to approach such fine chocolate as this. The website takes it a little too far, maybe, recommending yak cheese as an accompaniment and likening the taste of the goji to plum and currant -- (not quite.)

Vosges consistently has an excellent snap and mouth feel as well as an artful composition and proportional blending of flavors -- for reference, other Vosges bars I've enjoyed are Calindia and Black Pearl, containing cardamom/walnuts/plums and ginger/wasabi/sesame, respectively. So you can see how this bar has turned it down a notch.

The taste is great, and while the berries don't exactly deliver on their plum-esque promise, their usual dirt-like taste is undetectable here. The salt is perfect, balancing the sweetness of the chocolate as well as the earthiness of the berry, and while it's certainly strong it doesn't overpower the cocoa flavor. The one textural complaint I had was that the goji berries got stuck in my teeth -- and not just my teeth, but the teeth of my guests, and that's something I can't excuse. 

So, with that in mind, I award this bar an A-. 

Noi Sirius: 56%

Iceland, as you may have heard, has recently fallen on hard times amidst the current financial crisis -- the New York Times recently declared the nation bankrupt. But they're definitely doing something right, because this bar was delicious. I bought it at a Whole Foods in West Orange, NJ. $4 for 7 ounces, which isn't half bad. Here is the basic information:

Noi Sirius: 56%

Cocoa content: 56%

Notable ingredients: n/a

Origin: n/a (no, they don't grow cocoa beans in Iceland.)

I had seen this bar a number of times at my local Whole Foods, but hesitated to buy it for a couple of reasons. One, it has a 56% cocoa content and calls itself "bittersweet," which isn't my favorite, and Two, it's really big. I know I don't often list the weight of my chocolate bars here, but the average is about 3 oz. This bar, which actually consists of two thin, broad bars stacked together and wrapped in wax paper, comes in at 7 oz., more than twice as much as your typical Chocolove bar and almost thrice as much as a Dagoba! Thanks for the bounty, Iceland. 

I know bigger is better when it comes to candy, but I wasn't totally confident in this chocolate and I didn't want to buy a big hunk of it just to see it go to waste. Thankfully, I took the chance. Much to my surprise, this bar was utterly delicious. It's sweet, snappy, earthy, and surprisingly light. I haven't even gotten through the first half yet, so I'm thinking I might use the second half for baking once I move on to my next bar. Lucky for me, Noi Sirius has included a recipe for coconut muffins on the back of the wrapper! I found this bar to be delightful in every way, so I'm awarding it an A.