As long as I was trying so many peanut butter chocolates, I thought it was high time I got to a Reese’s Whipps. Especially since they’re not even marked as new anymore. Has it really been that long since they showed up?
The reason I took so long was that the idea of fluffy Reese’s just seemed weird. Unnatural. And why would anyone want something besides the Peanut Butter Cups? As it turns out, this bar is good. Just imagine Reese’s Pieces meets 3 Musketeers and you should have an idea of what it’s like.
The Reese’s Pieces taste is different from the Peanut Butter Cups. It’s more buttery, sweeter, less salty. And has less chocolate. (Or do they even have any?) The weak milk chocolate coating is barely an accent to the “light and fluffy peanut butter flavored nougat,” but somehow I don’t find it lacking.
As I was staring deep into the candy’s heart and soul (aka the filling) to make a deeper connection with it, I noticed that the very outer part of the nougat is different from the rest. It looks more like cookie dough. Perhaps it’s the insulation? Compared with a 3 Musketeers, this nougat is less fluffy. It’s more chewy and a bit more solid. Except for being less sticky, it’s a little similar to eating stiff caramel. Not better or worse than the other nougat, just different.
So I’m sold — no longer will I look more harshly on the Whipps than the other candy shelf finds. The Peanut Butter Cups are still better, but candy is for fun, anyway, and variety (so long as it tastes good) makes it more fun.
First, an apology; although this chocolate bar is available in Jewish shops in the UK, my one came from Israel, which accounts for its somewhat sorry state in the picture. Still, while the packaging suffered somewhat, the chocolate itself survived the journey unscathed.
Now for the chocolate. Does anyone remember the pop rocks candy from the 80s? It was rather a big hit when I was a child and came in a whole assortment of colours and (often sickly) flavours. This bar, from Israel’s most well-known chocolate family, the Cow label chocolate, is loaded with this popping sensation, as implied by the little fireworks on the wrapping. You can actually see the little bits of popping candy inside the chocolate and I must admit I was worried I was in for yet another sickly experience, remembering the chemical flavours I used to love so much back in my more sugar-obsessed days.
Fortunately, I was wrong. Elite’s chocolate is sweet, but not too sweet and you can’t taste the popping candy at all. You can certainly feel it, though, which makes for a thoroughly bizarre experience with lots of little pops at the back of your mouth. These go on long after you’ve swallowed the chocolate, but there is no aftertaste of any sort, just pure sensation.
All in all, this is a pleasant experience. The chocolate is nice enough, not exactly gourmet but perfectly palatable, while the popping candy effect is certainly fun, even if it is a bit gimmicky. Kids certainly love it and I must admit it gave me fond memories of being an 80s child and was all in all rather good fun.
After Simon reviewed Holly Caulfied’s organic dark chocolate with chilli & coconut recently, I decided to head down to Oxford Street to meet her and try out some free samples for myself.
Of course, the chocolate was delicious and by the time I got there, the crowds had already made a significant dent in the stock, but I did manage to buy a few bars to take home and try myself.
And knowing that Simon would probably rather bite his own arms off than review a white chocolate, I thought I’d review this one myself!
As you can see, it features the same packaging (design by Holly herself, of course) and format as the rest of the range, and it really does look rather good. Those little holes and imperfections just serve to make it look like it was made with love, by hand and add to the appeal for me.
Unlike the snazzy pink foil that Simon’s came in though, mine was sealed in clear plastic. I suspect the foil is more expensive and the plastic increases shelf life, but I do much prefer foil-wrapped chocolate. It looks so much nicer and it’s easier to recycle.
As you’d expect, the chocolate itself (29% cocoa solids and 25% milk solids) is very sweet and very creamy. The main flavour here though is the cinnamon, which I hadn’t expected. The cranberries themselves, while quite big, don’t have quite as much flavour as I would have liked. I can’t help thinking a little bit more tangy zing would have helped cut through that sweet creaminess.
But if you’re buying a white chocolate, that sweetness is probably exactly what you’re looking for, so while it’s not really to my personal taste, it’s made with quality ingredients, and white chocolate fans will love it – and it’s a good introduction to the rest of the range.
As Simon mentioned in his review, Holly doesn’t have an online store yet, but if you contact her through her web site, I’m sure she’ll be happy to let you know where you can buy her chocs.
Mmmmmm, I hear you say. Cashew & Cherry. A fabulous combo in a family block from the supermarket. Lead me to them.
Nestlé have been pushing Club chocolate for years, and recently we have had the packaging upgrade (cardboard just like Lindt) instead of plastic, and now new flavours as well. Club has been like a dependable old friend – the thing to grab for a darkish fix when it was time to ignore the Cadbury Old Gold. Same market – the only difference is how fickle the customer feels.
So anyhow, Cashew Nut and Cherry sounds like a pretty good combination. I had visions of nuts, perhaps lightly roasted and salted. Luscious cherries like in a Cherry Ripe. Salivating at the thought, my hands trembled as I tore open the nice cardboard pack. And then: deflation.
Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing WRONG with this product. It’s a nice, affordable, perfectly edible, well made chocolate from a big company. But. It. Does. Not. Inspire.
It might have Cashew nut. But not big pieces. Little sort of crushed ground up lumps. Like we used to get in plastic packets to put on Ice-Cream Sundaes back in 1973. Boring.
It might have Cherry. But not pieces of any kind I could really find. Not luscious. Maybe a tiny hint of flavour. But nothing special. Boring.
Competently made, slightly nutty, slightly fruity. Easily edible, medium-dark. And Boring. I’d happily buy this again to scarf down when feeling fickle and avoiding Cadbury. But I would not buy it to grab and enthuse about the taste sensation “oh wow Cashew Nut and Cherry”, because really, on that front, it’s a bit disappointing.
