Lindt: Pistachio

I bought this bar at an A&P in Bronxville. I'm not really that into pistachios, and I was skeptical of how they'd pair with chocolate. I like the combination of pistachio and vanilla -- in my hometown, there is this great ice cream parlor called Rancatore's and they have a flavor called Kulfi which is basically an Indian-inspired blend of vanilla ice cream, pistachio, and some spices -- cardamom and nutmeg, I would guess. It's delicious. My purchase of this bar was inspired by my love of that ice cream flavor.

Lindt: Pistachio
Cocoa content: unlisted (guess: 33%)
Notable ingredients: pistachio nuts; almonds
Origin: n/a

The "filled" Lindt bars consist of little chocolate pods with some sort of creamy filling, joined together at the edges. These pieces, each about the size of a bullet, contained a single pistachio nut suspended in a vaguely almond-flavored cream filling. Having been surrounded by cream since however long ago this bar was manufactured, the pistachio nut itself was a little bit soft. It lost its signature saltiness and distinct flavor. Pistachios are never rock hard, but this one was softened to the point that even its crunchiness amidst a pocket of cream was compromised.

It's still kind of good, though. Lindt bars are truly never bad. The milk chocolate especially is so creamy and sweet and melty that it will complement whatever it encases. The fact that the nut had lost much of its distinctiveness and texture made the bar less successful but not actually less palatable. The only real complaint I have about these filled Lindt bars is that the pods are too big to eat in one bite and too messy to bite in half. This bar tasted pretty good regardless.

Next week I'll hopefully have made it beyond the A&P for my chocolate shopping. This one gets a B.

Hachez: Cocoa D'Arriba 77% Longs

My mom brought this elegant thing home from Eden Gourmet, and we quibbled over whether it fit the requirements of my blog. The truth is, I'm here to blog about chocolate bars and lord knows I don't blog about chocolate truffles, candies, or bonbons -- let alone tubes, mom! But since I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I decided to eat this slender treasure, and I am here today to tell its tale.

Hachez: Cocoa D'Arriba 77% Longs
Cocoa content: 77%
Notable ingredients: n/a
Origin: Ecuador

The bar is about 8 inches long and half an inch across, and it's segmented into little inch-long pieces, which break off with impressive snap. The chocolate itself is decent but not all that interesting: South American chocolates usually avoid the unpleasant acidic notes that you find in African single origins, but this bar seems to have sacrificed layers of flavor for a smooth finish. It tasted clean and satisfyingly melty, but the taste was no more interesting or distinctive than your average blended bar.

And -- I still have issues with the shape. This bar apparently belongs to a family of Hachez bars called Longs. Doesn't that seem like an arbitrary shape for chocolates? It's pretty -- sort of -- but it also breaks easily in your shopping bag and actually contains only about 1 1/3 oz. of chocolate. This bar can appear on the blog (you're welcome, you're welcome) but I'm thrilled with neither the chocolate nor the length of it.

Next week, back to New York, back to quality chocolate shopping. This bar gets a 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.

Galler: Biscuit

My dear cousin bought this bar for me at The Chocolate Library on St. Marks near Avenue A. The store just opened less than a month ago, and it's largely disappointing -- there's a much bigger variety at the Food Emporium chocolate shop on the Upper East Side, and even at most big upscale grocery stores. But this was a nice little find:

Galler: Biscuit
Cocoa content: 60%
Notable ingredients: biscuit
Origin: n/a

This will be a brief entry because this was a brief bar -- and because on this, the first day of 2011, I am dead tired and just want to watch re-runs of the Jersey Shore. The bar was divided into four thick segments -- inside, there was one layer of "biscuit," which in American candy bars is usually called wafer, and one layer of a sort of hazelnut paste. It was nutty and had a nice roasted taste -- a little coffee-ish, and not at all too sweet. My only complaint would be that I was hoping to encounter a more buttery, flaky biscuit within.

Hopefully the new year will be buttery and flaky enough to make up for my disappointment. This bar gets a B.

Askinosie: San Jose Del Tambo

Doesn't that guy on the Askinosie bar look kind of like George W. Bush? My mom brought this bar back for me from Boston -- I think she got it at Formaggio, on Huron Ave. in Cambridge. I've seen these bars around before but I've never had one because they're pretty expensive. Thanks Mom!

Askinosie: San Jose Del Tambo
Cocoa content: 70%
Notable ingredients: n/a
Origin: Ecuador

I think Askinosie copied my blog. Look at the wrapper: categories for Bean, Origin, Variety, Cocoa, Process, and Choc-o-lot #. They basically stole my idea of summing up chocolate bars in a few simple categories, and went crazy with it. Honestly, who is going to recognize the names of different beans and bean varietals when they're shopping for chocolate bars? And who cares about the choc-o-lot #? What is that? Mine is just stamped with 05 06 10, which I assume is a date. But what am I supposed to make of that?

I wish I could dock points for this excess, but I can't: this bar was too delicious. It had a perfect snap, great consistency, and a sweet, roasted coffee flavor -- not at all acidic. This is one of the better South American single-origin bars that I've tried.

Another thing: it comes in this adorable little bag. I don't know if you can tell from the picture, but the wrapper is actually a narrow little brown paper bag, folded over at the top and tied shut with twine. The front is stamped with bar-specific statistics and the back is printed with a little note from the founder, Shawn Askinosie -- oh, ok, so reading this now I see that the picture on the front is of the farmer. No kidding! So it's not George W. Bush.

This was a great bar and I can't wait to eat another Askinosie bar. Next up, if I can find it in New York: the Malted Moo Moo bar. Yum. B+.

Cold Stone Creamery: Peanut Butter Cup Perfection

May I say: Lol. May I say lol because Cold Stone Creamery's Peanut Butter Cup Perfection bar represents the Cold Stone concept come full-circle: they use candy in their ice cream, and then they adapt their popular ice cream creations to candy form -- what's next? Will Cold Stone eat itself, and use its own ice cream-turned-candy creations as mix-ins into new ice cream creations? Is that too meta for Cold Stone? First things first:

Cold Stone Creamery: Peanut Butter Cup Perfection
Cocoa content: unlisted (guess: 30%)
Notable ingredients: "filling" (vaguely peanut butter-like substance)
Origin: please!

This was actually a truly disgusting bar. I don't know why. I'll be the first to admit that Cold Stone Creamery is not bad! I know, I know, the ice cream is mediocre -- but even mediocre ice cream tastes awesome if you grind an entire Butterfinger into it. Anyone who says otherwise is lying! I've never had the Peanut Butter Cup Perfection, but I'm guessing it's delicious. Peanut Butter tends to turn everything it touches into gold.

Not this bar -- but then again, we can't really call this peanut butter. Peanuts aren't even mentioned until the 6th item in the ingredient list under "filling," and even then it's "artificial peanut flavor." Well, something went horribly wrong with this artificial peanut filling, because it tastes like blue cheese legit. It's disgusting. It's unspeakable.

Or maybe the problem is with the chocolate? It's made by Turin -- a self-proclaimed "master chocolatier" -- a company that's been around for almost a century. I'm pretty sure the chocolate is at best tasteless, and possibly kind of stale and chewy, too. Really, the disgusting filling distracted me from the chocolate. So, Cold Stone -- stick to what you do best. Keep combining good candy with bad ice cream, and leave the bad candy out of it.

As a fan of Cold Stone I'm sorry to say -- this bar gets a D.

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-.