Another bar from Seed & Bean, the Nottingham based maker of fair trade, organic chocolate bars. That’s right, everything in these bars is certified to both standards, and this one also happens to be Vegan. This bar is made with cocoa from the Dominican Republic and sugar from Paraguay.
Initial impressions were that it’s an unfussy bar with a good sheen and a light cocoa aroma, and yes – a hint of the hemp oil. Turn the bar over and it’s a different story. There are your pumpkin seeds.
In the mouth it’s quick to melt with a light mouth feel and good depth without ever cloying. Although the wrapper says this is ‘Extra Dark Chocolate’ it isn’t in any way heavy or thick on the tongue. There’s a general lightness about the whole thing, with subtle sweet undertones and little in the way of bitterness. The finish is long, mildly acidic, and the addition of the hemp oil gives it, well, a hempy tang. Allow the chocolate to melt a little and chew on the pumpkin seeds and you release their complimentary nuttiness.
It’s a very ‘organic’ tasting chocolate, and by that I mean that the choice of pumpkin and hemp adds an earthy dimension which I think will be one of those that divides people. Personally, I quite liked the concept and the pumpkin seeds were still crisp and full of flavour, and given the quality and pedigree of the ingredients, I’m pretty sure this bar would qualify as health food.
I have to admit, the main thing that attracted me to this little number was how it looks. It’s not that I’m shallow, but that glossy inch-and-a-half high dome is very difficult to resist when it’s sat on the counter in Paul A. Young’s shop softly whispering “Buy Me. Buy Me Now”. So I bought it.
What we have here is a hand painted dome of 64% Valrhona Madagascan chocolate. Inside, there’s a layer of pistachio flavoured marshmallow, with a second layer of lemon thyme caramel on top.
The caramel is as liquid as it is in Paul’s salted caramels, and immediately starts to flow once you bite into it. This is slightly awkward, as you can’t eat it in a single mouthful like you can (just about) with the smaller caramels, and neither do you get a spoon like you do with the salted caramel Easter eggs. Not being entirely prepared for how liquid it was, I went for the “caramel dribbling down the face” option.
The texture of the marshmallow is equally unexpected. It’s incredibly light. So light in fact, that I’m surprised it can hold up the weight of the caramel on top, yet somehow it does. The moment it hits the tongue it starts to melt away, leaving a gentle hint of pistachio flavour. It’s impressive, but I did find myself wishing the experience lasted a little longer.
The caramel flavour is equally subtle, with hints of lemon and thyme coming through at the end, complementing the delicious natural citrus notes of the chocolate. The flavours work together amazingly well, but it is a very short lived experience, especially given that £3.85 price tag. A small step up in price and you can get a brownie that will feed a small country for weeks.
But what you’re really paying for here is the artistry, skill and time that have gone into creating something like this by hand. So where I’d quite happily buy a brownie for myself (and I did!), this is the kind of thing I’d buy as a gift for someone I really wanted to impress.
Ok, I’ll admit it. I bought this bar of chocolate because it was big – 250g – yet it cost the same as just about every other bar in the shop. And I’ll also admit that I had absolutely no intention of pairing it up with wine either, even though the large lettering on the front demanded that I do.
It even went as far to suggest that I stock up on some Bordeaux, Cabernet Sauvignon, Cognac, Ruby Port and Shiraz before unwrapping the bar – I was beginning sense some serious peer pressure to get drunk.
I’d never had anything from Donini before, and a quick perusal of their website suggests that most of the products are for the wholesale market so by their standards this is probably a small bar. The bar looked a little daunting and a bit tough to break but seeing the recommended course of action is a cheese board and knife, I grabbed those and started to stab at it.
The chocolate itself is a bit on the flaky, crumbly side – it doesn’t have that nice snap to it. While the chocolate looks like it might have a bit of graininess, it is a surprisingly smooth eat. Where it does fall short, however, is the flavour. It somehow manages to fall into that area which isn’t exactly sweet but isn’t particularly robust either. It sure doesn’t taste like the percentage claimed on the wrapper although it isn’t horrible by any means.
Maybe it needs to be propped up by some kind of alcoholic beverage and there’s some magical synergy that emerges. Or maybe after a few glasses of wine, the flatness of it all doesn’t matter.
To be honest, it would probably work really well in some of the chocolate recipes on this site but by itself, it is exceptionally unmemorable.
I thought I’d conclude my own little look at Easter chocolates with this slightly eccentric offering from James Chocolates. It’s a 70% cocoa dark chocolate egg, but it’s James Firecracker chocolate, and therefore home to chilli, pepper, spice, and of course popping candy. It’s also slightly odd because when I first saw it I thought it looked more like a Christmas pudding than an Easter Egg – or maybe that’s just my perception. To me, those pink peppercorns (yep, they’re pink peppercorns) look like holly berries.
One other thing I ought to mention. I had a bit of fun extracting the egg from it’s packaging, eventually opting to open the bottom of the clear plastic sleeve and slide it free that way. I’m not sure this is the best way to package an Easter Egg.
When I first tasted the Firecracker chocolate, I quite enjoyed the ‘fun’ element. The popping candy fits in very well with the exploding, fiery ‘theme’, and there’s a definite air of jollity about it. The thing is, would anyone want to buy an egg made of this chocolate? As a joke perhaps, or for someone with unusual tastes, but I can’t help but feel that the recipient of one of these eggs would probably still be nibbling on it well into May.
The dark, slightly bitter cacao flavours are soon joined by the gentle warmth of the pepper, and the popping candy (and there’s plenty of it) adds a playful finish to proceedings. It’s definitely a ‘niche’ egg, and I didn’t find it particularly seasonal, although I suppose there is no hard and fast rule when it comes to Easter Eggs. It’s just that Firecracker Chocolate in November seems more appropriate.
