While I was at World Market this week, I spotted a pile of these boxes in the fall display. Plain, red-ribboned boxes by “Signature Chocolates by Rena – A Division of Chocolates a la Carte.” Sounded kind of iffy, but the flavors sounded worth trying, so I added one to my armload of plunder. Opening the box at home, it was rather inviting. There is a paper above the tray of truffles that when folded up, shows the names and descriptions of the four varieties. It’s easier than having an individual booklet.
The two with orange stripes are Gingerbread Truffles, or a “luscious combination of gingerbread and milk chocolate.” There seems to be a dark chocolate layer, as well, resulting in a thick shell. It certainly smells good, with all the spices of the holidays, if more Christmas than harvest. The moist and silky inside reminded me that I haven’t had a truffle in ages. This was a nice choice to break my fast. The fresh spice of the gingerbread flavor mingles wonderfully with the milk chocolate.
Dusted in the classic cocoa powder are two Tiramisu Truffles. I’m finding the cocoa pathetic; it’s too made up instead of naturally messy. They taste nice, though. The shell is thinner this time, so there’s more of that silky filling. Mild and sweet coffee and chocolate remind me of the Laposse hard candies from Mexico. Maybe that’s no coincidence since Tiramisu is Italian and the Laposse founder, I now find, was born in Italy?
The pair with green stripes are Spiced Granny Apple Truffles. Apple and chocolate is a new combination for me. It’s labeled “traditional apple flavored ganache with a spicy twist.” The whitish, yellow filling doesn’t look too promising, but it smells real — you can just see a fresh apple pie. And it tastes… like a… candle. That must be the “spicy twist:” holiday spices added in like they are to candles. Not as “real” anymore, but once I got used to the idea, it tastes interesting. It is the sweetest of the bunch, though, keep in mind.
There are not two, but three Salted Caramel Truffles, described as “creamy caramel layered over a salted ganache enrobed in dark chocolate.” Forgive me as I try to figure out which layer is which. What I see is a filling inside two dark shells. Continuing on to taste, we have chocolate and salt and caramel all brought together in the filling in a well-placed balance. The dark chocolate is sweet, which most people will like, but I do wish the shell were thinner. I’d rather taste more of that smooth and slightly tangy ganache. Then it might be worth it to have three of these instead of three Gingerbreads or Tiramisus.
I’m tempted to call $10 for nine truffles (127 grams) a tad pricey, but I’ve reconsidered. Individual chocolates always cost more and so do holiday/seasonal offerings. Amongst less worthy choices available, you’ll be safe with this one. Though perhaps not at the very highest quality, this selection will make quite the welcome addition to a cozy fall gathering.
In keeping with my current philosophy of buying any and all chocolate in brightly coloured packaging, I picked this bar up in Waitrose, attracted by the bright green logo on the front.
Long time Chocablog readers may remember we’ve looked at a few Montezuma products in the past and been a little underwhelemed, so I did not have particularly high expectations this time – although I was intrigued by the concept a chilli and lime milk chocolate.
As it turns out, it’s actually pretty good.
As you can see, the bar itself isn’t much to look at. No fancy designs on the chunks, just an ordinary looking block of milk chocolate. The finish is matte rather than glossy, but it looks well made. It comes sealed in plastic, and the bar releases the rather pleasant aroma of limes when you rip it open. Not too much – just enough to tempt you in.
This is a 34% cocoa solids chocolate with 22.5% milk solids, and the taste and texture are really quite pleasant – not too sweet and not too creamy.
But the best part of it is how the milk chocolate, lime and chilli flavours go together. I was worried that the lime and milk chocolate would jar, but they go together perfectly. Neither flavour obliterates the other, and as the chocolate melts away, the heat from the chilli slowly builds.
By the time the chocolate has gone, you’re left with a very nice chilli kick. It’s much warmer than some of the chilli chocolate bars I’ve tasted recently, but it stops short of inflicting physical pain. The warmth lingers for a while until all your left with is a hint of lime flavour that draws you in for another chunk.
All in all, this is worth trying, particularly for chilli fans. It’s a bit of a shame they still feel the need to write a short essay explaining how awesome they are on the back of the box, but I guess you can’t have everything.
Time again for the Picky Ginger Freak – that’s me – to try another offering and see what it’s like.
Ernest Hiller proudly proclaims on his pack to have been in business since 1914, presumably they must be doing something right to have survived that long. Like many a provincial maker, we don’t actually see a lot of Ernest Hillier product where I live. It all comes from another big city a mere 500 miles / 800 kilometres away, which is nothing much in these modern times.
A quick check on the web sit shows a range of all sorts of yummy goodness, including the rather intriguing “Yard of Chocolate”. That sounds like a challenge for another day! Anyhow, a small bag of Ginger In Rich Dark Chocolate was found one day by The Lady Of The House, and borne home triumphantly for me to check. And check I have.
Firstly – my criteria for a chocolate ginger are like one of those grizzled grumps from the military – tough but fair. Specifically, I want to see some actual ginger, not essence of ginger flavour. I want a decent chocolate coating – that means it needs to be fairly thick. And the chocolate must be dark. Milk chocolate and ginger is just not right. Given the judging criteria then, and with a few other choccy gingers having been checked as part of my obsession, it was time to give Mr Hilliers finest a go.
Starting with the ingredients list – the chocolate is 75% of contents. Good, box ticked. There is real ginger in there, preserved / dried so it has a bit of sugar. That’s ok. The chocolate is 53% cocoa solids. Acceptable, more would be better. The strange thing is the 1.5% milk fat – what on earth is that all about?
In size and shape, each is a nice round sphere – not perfectly formed, but that’s fine – and about the size of a small marble, perhaps a little smaller. That means the piece of ginger inside is actually pretty small. It also means that a 150 gram bag contains a heck of a lot of them.
In terms of flavour, these are pretty good. I’ve had only one that I consider better. I also think these are better than the Lindt Excellence, simply because this one has lumps of real ginger in.
Using the #1 method of chocolate eating – slow sucking – the chocolate melts away reasonably quickly. This is hardly surprising seeing as it is middling dark and perhaps that milk fat helps it along. Letting it all melt away leaves the piece of ginger in the middle which packs a very nice punch. Using the #2 method of chocolate eating – crunching and munching – gives a completely different impression. The chocolate and ginger don’t mix quite as well as they could, perhaps the balance in quantity of chocolate and ginger is not quite right? More ginger needed?
In spite of my tiny reservation, above, I’ve still managed to eat ½ the bag while writing this review and only sheer willpower has made me stop to leave a few for tomorrow. My hand keeps wandering back toward the pack – shades of Doctor Strangelove and his automatic hand going out of control.
They’re good. Very good. And I’d take these in preference to the Lindt any time. High praise indeed.
I picked these up from Waitrose, and as you might have guessed, it was the bright yellow packaging with cats on that caught my eye. Having never heard of Monty Bojangles, I had no idea what to expect, but I can never say no to a bright yellow box.
Inside that box we have, rather intriguingly, a shiny foil bag. It’s obviously designed to preserve freshness, but it doesn’t exactly scream ‘luxury’ at you.
Inside the bag, we have 100g of “French luxury truffles”. I put that in quotes, partly because that’s how the box describes them, but mainly because they’re packaged in the UK, not luxury, and not really truffles (the first ingredient listed on the box is vegetable oil).
But the truffles themselves look quite appealing, dusted in dark cocoa powder…
And they taste really good.
The first thing to hit your tastebuds is the taste of dark chocolate from the cocoa powder. That quickly gives way to the rich, smokey toffee-caramel flavour of the truffle itself. The texture is firm and ultra smooth, feeling cool and creamy on the tongue – almost like a ganache made entirely with cream, rather than something containing vegetable oil.
Embedded into the truffle are lots of tiny little pieces of hard toffee, which are equally tasty. I could have done without them though, as they are extremely hard and tend to grate the roof of your mouth while you’re swirling the truffle around. I think I can live with a little pain for the sake of this level of yumminess though.
My head tells me I shouldn’t like these, but my mouth is telling me to go and buy more. Make of that what you will.
