Vosges: Gingerbread Toffee Bar

Please excuse this long sabbatical -- I've been wrapped up in other things, but I wanted to stop in to tell you about a bar I've recently Known. This particular one was a Hanukkah present. It comes from Vosges, the excellent chocolate store with locations in Soho and the Upper East Side. Oddly, most high end chocolate stores seem to be concentrated in and around these two neighborhoods.

Vosges: Gingerbread Toffee Bar
Cocoa content: 65%
Notable ingredients: allspice, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, toffee
Origin: n/a

This is one of Vosges's limited edition candy bars, probably just released for the holiday season. I thought it was going to be amazing because I'm a huge fan of gingerbread, but as it turns out, gingerbread is one of those things that you can only expect to enjoy when it is entirely itself -- in other words -- not trying to lend its graces to other treats, candies, cookies, pastries, and the like. With the exception of cookies -- gingerbread cookies are great -- nothing is a good vehicle for gingerbread spices. If you've had a disgusting gingerbread latte at Starbucks, then you already know.

I don't know what I expected -- for there to be little nuggets of chewy gingerbread tucked into the chocolate bar? Needless to say, there were not. The word "gingerbread" on the bar actually just indicates the presence of spices commonly used in gingerbread -- allspice, cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg. And the bar wasn't simply flavored with these spices -- rather, the toffee was flavored with these spices, and the toffee was -- allegedly -- strewn throughout the bar. So, at this point we're about 3 degrees of separation away from gingerbread, the advertised star of this bar.

As it turns out, there wasn't even any detectable toffee, really. There was something crunchy, which I still can't identify, and there was a certain stale space flavor, reminiscent of those gingerbread lattes. My dreams were a little bit dashed.

In fairness, I didn't get to try this bar at its absolute best. My apartment is not really a hospitable place for chocolate right now -- it's unspeakably hot during the day while I'm at work (I open windows when I get home), so it gets melty if I leave it out, but it gets chalky if I put it in the fridge. Any and all suggestions for the care and keeping of chocolate are welcome.

This bar gets a C.

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+.

Winnipesaukee Chocolates: Madame Chiang

Madame Chiang Kai-Shek discovered Lake Winnipesaukee, smack-dab in the middle of the State of New Hampshire (thanks, Sherlock Kai-Shek,) in 1908. Actually, now that I think about it, maybe when they say (on the back of this bar) that she discovered the lake, they mean she came across it, not having known about it before. It's actually absurd to think that a woman from Shanghai could possibly have discovered Lake Winnipesaukee in 1908--while attending summer school nearby. I guess this packaging is just badly written. Anyway:

Winnipesaukee Chocolates: Madame Chiang

Cocoa content: Unlisted (my guess 65%)

Notable ingredients: crystallized ginger

Origin: n/a

So anyway--Madame Chiang Kai-Shek, former First Lady of the Republic of China, was walking in the woods in New Hampshire one day and came across Lake Winnipesaukee, as any normal person might if he or she were walking in the woods in New Hampshire--eventually--that's a pretty small state. To honor the day she happened upon the biggest lake in the state of New Hampshire, Winnipesaukee Chocolates created the Madame Chiang bar, which consists of dark chocolate with crystallized ginger. Sounds a little bit racist to me. Discuss.

This bar was kind of a dud, which is disappointing because the last Winnipesaukee bar I tried--Sally's Gut--was pretty nice. This bar was just way too thick and the ginger was dispersed too scarcely. The chocolate was kind of inconsistent in texture: unpleasantly grainy, with a lot of air bubbles, and very dried out. No melt or creaminess to speak of. And, on top of that, the bar was almost impossible to break. They should stretch these 3 oz. bars out so that they're half as thick--that would go a long way.

So, this bar certainly wasn't disgusting, but after eating it for two nights I wanted nothing to do with it. On to the next. C.

Fatty Crab: Fatty Bar Milk

A recent meal at Fatty Crab on the Upper West Side concluded with this exciting treat, created exclusively for Fatty Crab by Tumbador Chocolates. Fatty's dessert menu consists of this and one other Fatty Bar, the dark variety, made with roasted almonds, chili, and sea salt. Somehow, after hot pickles, steamed pork buns, and soft-shell crab, dark chocolate just seemed too conservative a choice with which to cap off the meal. Although I almost changed my mind when our waiter mentioned that the chocolate/chili combo was "a little out there, but surprisingly good!" DOES HE KNOW WHO I AM.

Fatty Crab: Fatty Bar Milk
Cocoa content: unknown
Notable ingredients: candied ginger; puffed rice
Origin: n/a

Puffed rice: welcome! You are always welcome here! And that's part of why I ordered this bar. But my waiter didn't even mention ginger, and, judging from the prevalence of said spice on this blog, I would say that was a pretty welcome addition, too. The bar was thick and dense like a candy bar, with a much more complicated flavor profile and an interesting textural experience what with the chewy ginger sharing space with crispy rice.

Also, I wish you could see the wrapper more clearly because it's adorable: there are little crabs and prawns all over it. If I remember correctly, it came on a little plate and looked positively blog-worthy; alas, all who have been to this restaurant know that it is too dark to take photos, especially with a cheap phone camera.

At the restaurant, we ate about 2/3 of the bar and I wrapped the rest of it back up for enjoying later, and we didn't even notice that our waiter took it back to the kitchen with him when he went to run my credit card! Luckily, he was back a moment later when he realized the wrapper still contained chocolate. For the meal and the bar, 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.

Dolfin: Au Lait Au Masala

Michael brought this bar home from Boston for me -- undoubtedly from the liquor store on Broadway in Somerville, because they stock all of these plastic sleeve Dolfin bars -- two birds, one stone, right? Just kidding. Here we have another milk chocolate bar made with masala. I know I pegged masala chai as corny a couple of posts ago, but I just want to clarify that masala itself is not corny. Hello, have you ever had chicken tikka masala? We all have -- it's dead serious. It's chai that I take issue with, and this bar earns automatic points for abandoning that nasty four-letter word and maintaining the sweet, addictive flavor.

Dolfin: Au Lait Au Hot Masala
Cocoa content: 32%
Notable ingredients: hot masala
Origin: n/a

Ok, first. Masala, what is it? Usually, it's cloves, black pepper, cinnamon, ginger, and cardamom. It's just a name for a mix of spices commonly used to brew tea. But of course, the spices themselves do not add up to tea unless you steep them in water, which is kind of why I object to the concept behind that Le Pain Quotidien bar from two weeks ago.

Aside from having different names for the same thing, this bar and the Le Pain Quotidien bar are very similar. The LPQ bar had a cocoa content of 38%, and this bar is 32%. A 6 point difference in cocoa solids isn't hugely noticeable in this range, but I did feel like the LPQ chocolate was slightly higher quality. However, the spices were blended better in this Dolfin bar: it was less grainy, a little subtler (with a more surprising finish toward the end,) and sweet without being cloyingly so.

Both bars have beautiful packaging, a good snap, and good flavor. I didn't give the LPQ post a grade but this grade can serve for both of them: B+.

Le Pain Quotidien: Lait Masala Chai AND Oyster and Chocolate Tasting Soiree

This chocolate review will be cut a little bit short so that I can talk about an event that I attended -- don't worry! -- it's about chocolates I have known, and the bivalves whom they have known.

Burnt orange. Masala chai. The French language. Which of these items does not fit betwixt the rest? Of course the answer is that tired, oft-encountered spice: masala chai. Of course it is that ill-used, outrageously corny spice disguised -- in broad daylight (i.e. Starbucks) -- as exotic. Did you know that chai is corny? Like men's aprons -- like the word "segue"? It is.

Le Pain Quotidien: Lait Masala Chai
Cocoa content: 38%
Notable ingredients: masala
Origin: n/a

But Le Pain Quotidien isn't corny, and their market products are consistently delicious. So is this chocolate bar, which I had admittedly tasted long before this week. Not syrupy or salty but spicy and subtle. NB: Unintentional alliteration? Not corny.



The other thing I wanted to discuss is a chocolate-centric event that I attended this evening at Vosges's Soho boutique -- thanks to my chocolate-savvy uncle. The event was an "Oyster and Chocolate Tasting Soiree" featuring Chef Nick Korbee of Smith and Mills (Tribeca.) Four oysters from varying waters were paired with 4 distinct Vosges truffles and 4 drinks. The highlights for me came from separate pairings -- the Calm Cove oysters (Washington) were best of the bivalves, the white chocolate truffle with Kumumoto oyster brine and pearl dust was the winner for chocolate, and my favorite drink was a simple glass of Miller Hi-Life. All in all, a very "heady" evening, as promised by the online blurb.

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-.

Laughing Moon Chocolates: Chipotle & Cinnamon

I am always excited to try chocolate made by small companies in the Northeast, but since I moved out of New England I don't often see these types of bars in stores. Luckily, I have friends who like to drive unspeakably long distances, stay with strangers on farms, and bring back chocolatey relics. This bar, given to me by Dan, is made by the Laughing Moon Chocolates company based in Stowe, Vermont. The company makes all sorts of chocolates, ranging from handmade truffles to chocolate-covered cookies. This bar is part of their Signature line.

Laughing Moon Chocolates: Chipotle & Cinnamon
Cocoa content: Unlisted (my guess is 60%)
Notable ingredients: cinnamon; dried chipotle pepper
Origin: n/a

Chipotle doesn't mean much to me beyond delicious Mexican fast food, but I understand that it's also the name of a pepper. Chipotle peppers look like wrinkly, dried out brown pods, and they smell smokey like Lapsang Souchong tea. Or like bacon. What I didn't know previously is that chipotle peppers are actually just smoke-dried jalapenos -- they retain little of the heat of jalapenos in the smoking process, I guess.

But anyway, this information is irrelevant, because I didn't taste a hint of chipotle in the chocolate bar. Was I not tasting closely enough? Cinnamon, the other notable ingredient in this bar, was certainly present and dominant in every bite. While I've found some flavors -- like chili and salt -- to be overwhelming in unsubtle doses, there was something kind of nice about the heavy load of cinnamon here. It tasted really homemade -- like the hardened product of a vat of chocolate into which a bunch of cinnamon was poured. Though it may indeed have overpowered the chipotle, cinnamon is a ritzy treasure, and I appreciated that it came out to play.

The wrapper promises that "you won't find chocolate like this anywhere else," and as far as I know, they're right. Ubiquitous as cinnamon appears to be in pastry, it is not often paired with chocolate -- and chipotle is of course an even rarer accompaniment. This bar's rating can be attributed to its originality as well as its taste: B+.

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.

Xocoa: Wasabi

So I'm back from Barcelona, back from Europe, and back to blogging in my pajamas in bed with the television on. Too much? This is the first in what will be a pretty long (say, monthlong?) string of Barcelona reviews, since I did an unspeakable amount of chocolate shopping there on the Carrer de la Princesa. This one is from an amazing store called Xocoa that sells all manner of chocolatey things: perfect looking chocolate chip cookies, chocolate coated rice-krispie treats, and hot cocoa mixes. The bar selection is crazy: rosemary, lemon verbena, and above all -- this one! I had no idea what to get, but luckily Michael bit the bullet with Wasabi.

Xocoa: Wasabi

Cocoa content: 52%

Notable ingredients: wasabi

Origin: n/a

I was a little worried about the taste of this bar. I have a harder time with wasabi than chili peppers because it's much harder on the nasal passages, which for me are more sensitive than my taste buds. This bar was not actually spicy, though -- no more so than many of the chili pepper bars I eat, certainly. Wasabi is really more like mustard: it's savory, kind of sour, and spicy in the nose. And you would actually never think to mix mustard with something sweet, really -- except -- does ketchup count?

Anyway, I had my doubts. But the bar turned out to have only a hint of spice toward the end of the melt, and my nose went virtually unaffected. The taste, however, was striking. It's almost impossible to describe -- something like American horseradish, but somehow creamier, and smokier, like some sort of smokey, spicy legume paste. I would venture to say horseradish is salty whereas wasabi tastes of umami, but I don't want to be THAT GIRL.

So I'll just say that it was really surprising, really interesting, and pretty deliciously weird. The quality of the chocolate, also, was immediately recognizable as fine, pure, and snappy. The bar was big and generous. I have no complaints save for the fact that I don't know how to tag this bar -- wasabi is derived from a root, so it's not exactly a spice -- but then again, so is ginger. Spice it is. I award a B+.

Cocoa Bean Chocolate Co.: Winter Spice Bar

I fooled you all last week -- you thought I was through with Holiday Merriment, but really I was JUST GETTING STARTED. Single origin, Indonesian beans, blah blah blah it was all a guise. Really I was just gearing up for the ultimate Christmas spice-fest that was this bar. It's Cocoa Bean Chocolate Co.'s special holiday bar -- they seem to have one every year, judging from their website. I found it at McCambridge's in Galway. Back to my old stomping grounds.

Cocoa Bean Chocolate Co.: Winter Spice Bar

Cocoa content: 28%

Notable ingredients: vanilla, cardamom, ginger, chili

Origin: n/a

Eating this bar was like walking through crisp white snow as cardamom, ginger, and a tingle of chili softly fall through the winter air -- no, I'm just kidding -- that's what it says on the back of the wrapper though. Eating this bar was more like foraging through crisp white snow for any traces of spice hidden deep below the surface. I think I tasted the chili more than anything, but only very slightly and as an aftertaste. I may have sensed a bit of cardamom on my tongue once or twice. No ginger for miles.

I'm big into cardamom. Unfortunately, I haven't reviewed any cardamom bars on this blog, but that doesn't mean I haven't known them. Vosges makes a bar -- the Calindia Bar -- with cardamom, walnuts, and dried plums. Needless to say, it's divine. So, having known that bar, I was hoping to encounter cardamom here with as much flavor and aroma as last time. I was admittedly a little disappointed -- not because the Winter Spice Bar tasted bad at all, but because I was just expecting a little more from it.

This is only the second white chocolate bar I've reviewed on this blog. I really don't eat much of it, and I think that might be why I find it hard to locate flavors in a bar of white chocolate. Every time, it just tastes so salty and buttery to me. But this white chocolate was a little less intense than the one I tried previously -- perhaps because the percentage of cocoa butter is a bit smaller here.

In any event, this bar was pretty tasty but could have been vastly better if it were made with milk chocolate and infused with more of the advertised spices. I give it a B.

Montezuma's: Nutmeg

You can expect November to be a month of fine chocolates because I've been doing some traveling and have sought out some of the greater chocolate venders in this fine continent. Last weekend I was in London, where I came across a Montezuma's chocolate store in the Spitalfields Market. I had actually never heard of Montezuma's -- it's a relatively new UK company with a flavor/ingredient variety comparable to that of Christopher Elbow, who uses Pop Rocks and weird spices. I chose this bar with little hesitation, as I have never seen nutmeg in chocolate before, and I love a good holiday spice just as much as the next person.

Montezuma's: Nutmeg

Cocoa content: 34%

Notable ingredients: organic nutmeg

Origin: n/a

The back of the bar has some corny testimonial from one Helen Pattinson (Co-founder,) who likens the flavor to one's "mother's secret rice pudding recipe." I think this is a useful, if not wholly accurate comparison. Nutmeg is usually paired with cinnamon, in cookies or in the incredibly delicious Cinnamon Nutmeg frozen yogurt that I once had from Ranc's in Lexington, MA. Indians use it in desserts, most notably kheer. I would say it provides warmth and a very subtle spice, like ginger but sweeter and milder.

I had no doubt that it would be a good companion for chocolate -- specifically milk chocolate. Since nutmeg often accompanies creamy desserts like eggnog and rice pudding, it is a natural match for the silky, high quality milk chocolate we have here. It provided a depth to the chocolate, and absolutely filled me with holiday merriment. Nutmeg makes pumpkin look like the Grinch who stole Christmas.

This was the first bar I've had in a while that I actually closed my eyes for and savored -- that's how delicious it was. Every respectable chocolate maker out there has a ginger bar. Why not nutmeg, I wonder? It smells incredible and presumably goes a long way in small doses.

This bar could get infinite points for originality but on taste alone it deserves a top grade. I'll definitely be trying more of Montezuma's chocolates in the future, and keeping my eye out for similarly innovative spice inclusion elsewhere. A.

Tesco Finest: 70% with Ginger

You'll notice that I uploaded my own (low quality) picture of this bar. That's because I found the Cairns Building for Business and Economics on campus here in Galway! Non-arts students always keep a clean facility, not to mention the highest internet speed known to Ireland. I got this bar at Tesco which is a huge European supermarket chain. This is their house-brand chocolate line, most all of which is single origin.

Tesco Finest: 70% with Ginger

Cocoa content: 70%

Notable ingredients: crystalized ginger

Origin: Dominican Republic

Imagine my surprise when I found, a couple of weeks ago, that Tesco carries its own line of single origin chocolate. Who else does that! I don't think even Whole Foods does, although of course their chocolate selection is far better than Tesco's when it comes to non-house brand. They had a few interesting options but I chose this one because I love ginger and I haven't had any in a while.

This is really the bottom of the barrel when it comes to ginger chocolates. I mean, surely it's not, but it doesn't even approach the level of other ginger bars I've tasted. On this blog so far we've seen examples from Dagoba, New Tree, and most notably, Chocolove (if you want to see the selection, it's tagged under "spice.") I tried to remember what I loved so much about the Chocolove ginger bar -- the dark chocolate was enlivened by the ginger's spice, sugar, and warmth. It was a warmth sensation, tempered by the earthy, semi-sweet chocolate. Chocolove just works with really great ingredients and makes a delicious chocolate, add-ins aside.

So the problems here were twofold: the chocolate was not that good -- stale, dry, dusty -- and the ginger was dead -- no chew, no spice to speak of, no warmth. It was like freeze-dried papaya or something. Tasteless. Not disgusting at all, just tasteless -- utterly boring. It's worth noting actually that I quit eating this bar halfway through and turned instead to my multi-pack of Kinder Buenos. I award this bar a C-.

Dagoba: Lemon Ginger

This is the first time I'm updating the blog from Massachusetts. I tried to update the other night but my internet has been really slow lately, presumably because of MJ? Anyway. This bar appealed to me for two simple reasons: lemon confections are good, and ginger is good. A lot of people apparently balk at the idea of lemony chocolate. It didn't sound so gross to me, though. Discuss? Here is the information:

Dagoba: Lemon Ginger

Cocoa content: 68%

Notable ingredients: lemon; crystallized ginger

Origin: n/a

Dagoba, it seems, has been adding a lot of new bars into the mix recently. I've had quite a few: chile blend, lime, lavender, all sorts of berries, etc; in fact, I now recall thinking it was weird that they had combined lime with chocolate, because it seems like too acidic and sharp a flavor to go with the earthiness of dark chocolate. Lemon didn't strike me that way, probably because I'm much more used to lemon desserts than lime ones.

But this stuff never became a problem, because I barely tasted any lemon over the course of 4 nights I spent eating this bar. I have a possible explanation though: I've had a cold this week, and haven't really tasted any subtle flavors in a few days. I know it's unfair to Dagoba to subject their product to my criticism under these circumstances, but I've such a line-up of chocolate that I couldn't really take a week off.

Anyway, I'll have to base my conclusions about this bar on what I did taste, which was just ginger. That was nice, but certainly no different from other ginger bars that I've had. I also had a complaint about the perforations on a Dagoba bar. For some reason it never bothered me before, but I just hate it when I can't break off pieces evenly for my friends to try. These individual pieces are sectioned in long, thin strips across the width of the bar. It was nearly impossible to break along the lines, especially as the bar got smaller. For a relatively good ginger/chocolate blend, I award this bar a B.

Chocolove: Crystallized Ginger

My friend Codey bought this bar for me -- somewhere in Bronxville or Yonkers, I'm guessing. There IS a poem inside, and it's by Shakespeare. I've had a lot of Chocolove bars in my day, but I don't think I've reviewed one on this blog yet. Here it begins -- some stats:

Chocolove: Ginger Crystallized in Dark Chocolate

Cocoa content: 65%

Notable ingredients: crystallized ginger

Origin: Should I discontinue this category? Blend, Belgian chocolate, made in Colorado

What is up with the name of this chocolate? Why is it called Ginger Crystallized in Dark Chocolate? What would that even mean? There is definitely crystallized ginger in here, but it was already like that when it went into the blend. I'm guessing. The packaging is, otherwise, cute and green, and there is a little stamp in the upper right-hand corner (can you make it out?) with a picture of a ginger root.

I have long been a fan of ginger. I like crystallized ginger and ginger hard candies and ginger tea and raw ginger root -- the only thing I don't like is pickled ginger. Ginger is good with chocolate the same way chili is good with chocolate -- the spice is mitigated by the fullness of dark, but the warmth adds a lot to the taste. Padma Lakshmi would call this the "flavor profile."

And Chocolove does the crystallized ginger thing really well. Not quite as well as Green & Blacks, maybe, which uses a sweeter 60%, but in some ways better because the ginger is chunkier and thus more sticky. I know, I know: I was singing a different tune when I ate Green & Blacks Cherry a few weeks ago. But the ginger in this bar doesn't interfere with the perforations at all, nor does it overwhelm the taste of the chocolate in any way. I like this bar very much. I award it an A-.

Dolfin: Noir au Poivre Rose

"Zartbitterschokolade Mit Rosa Pfeffer"

I know I kind of already reviewed this bar; I wrote a little blurb about Dolfin's Dark Pink Peppercorns a few weeks back. That bar was 59% though, and this bar is 52%. Also that bar tasted completely different and was wrapped completely differently. Also the other bar was totally normal and this bar is not. More on that later. Stats follow:

Dolfin: Noir au Poivre Rose

Cocoa content: 52%

Notable ingredients: pink peppercorns

Origin: none (Dolfin practices "the art of blending,") made in Belgium

This is a really beautiful bar that Michael bought at Cardullo's in Cambridge, MA. It is wrapped in plastic, which is nestled in a plastic-encased paper pouch. The sensibility of its perforations are unmatched: it has about seven or eight perforated bars cut widthwise, each about the same dimensions as a domino, or a stick of Wrigley's gum. 

But this bar is a freak. I always thought peppercorns were more or less the same thing as chili when chocolate was concerned, but now I know that peppercorns are a whole nother animal. There is nothing sharp, or sweet, or hot about peppercorns. They are the fullest, most savory, earthiest things I know. This is the same thing I grind over pasta or soup, except the dark pink variety is a little more floral. This spice wants not for chocolate, and I think the fact that Dolfin has used 52% here exacerbates the situation. It would make more sense with a much darker, fuller cocoa. I give this bar a C+.

Avant le Blog pt. 2

Here are some more bars from the last few weeks, with notes below.

Le Pain Quotidien: Noir Extra. LPQ is a Belgian chain of cafes -- they have a dozen locations in NYC. I got this at the one on 63rd and Lexington. If you go there for lunch, get the black bean hummus tartine. Their chocolate is nice but not as nice as their pastry. B.

Amattler: Extrafino Con 70% Cacao. My boyfriend got this for me -- I think it is from Cardullo's in Cambridge, MA. This bar was ridiculously good and far sweeter than your average 70%. It spoke to me. The list of ingredients lists "vanillin," which I don't usually see and which may explain the sweetness. This was out of control. A.

NewTree: SEXY. This is also from Michael, from Cardullo's. NewTree has names for all of its bars: SEXY is the ginger one. I mean to say that it is infused with ginger, not that it has red hair. I am almost as obsessed with ginger as I am with chocolate, so this is a special combo, but it is by no means rare. I've had a lot of ginger chocolate bars and I think Green & Blacks does it best, with the chewy chunks of crystallized ginger. This was still tasty, but not incredibly so. B.

Avant le Blog pt. 1

I ate a lot of chocolate before I started this blog, and I want to document some of that. Unfortunately, I have only been pressing and saving my wrappers for a short time. Here are a few that I have salvaged from this semester, with minimal notes below the pictures. There will be more to come in the next few days.

Dagoba: Lavender. I bought this bar in the organic section at Stop & Shop in Yonkers, NY. I am interested in lavender flavored candies because my mother eats them and to me they taste like soap. This bar didn't taste like soap -- it was divine, Dagoba at its (near) best. A-.

Taza: Stone Ground 70%. My friend Hannah brought this to me -- she got it at Whole Foods. I dig Taza -- I think they are based in Somerville, MA, and I used to buy their chocolate at the farmers' market in Lexington, Mass. This was delicious, solid dark chocolate with an almost gritty consistency. B+.

Dolfin: Dark Pink Peppercorns. This bar is wrapped beautifully. I bought it at Eden Gourmet in South Orange, NJ. Dolfin is not super special chocolate but I was interested in this because it combined hot spice (pink peppercorn) with a cocoa content in my "dark milk" range. That is unusual. This was not fantastic chocolate, but I enjoyed it and the packaging is tight. B.