When I found this, I inferred from the design that it would either have a unique approach or too much hype. Since Alter Eco doesn’t deal in only chocolate (tea and rice are two more of their products), that could be a possibility. They first opened a store in 1999 in Paris, with reaches into North America and Australia in 2005. They now have a total of 56 products from 19 different countries. This one uses cocoa mass from Bolivia, Peru; unrefined cane sugar from the Philippines; cane sugar from Paraguay; and cocoa butter from Bolivia, Dominican Republic.
Alter Eco’s chocolate is made in the Swiss tradition, and I’m glad to say that this bar at least delivers well. Probably not the most unique, yet neither is it the overly-hyped option I guessed at. The peppermint is infused, and it’s really a treat to have in fresh, fine-quality when there are so many average quality variations. It’s strong enough to keep your focus on it, though quiet enough that you can still get a good grip on the chocolate if you switch your attention over. At a minimum of 60%, it’s mostly mild and warm with just a touch of spice. Having both flavors gives your taste buds a nice bit to work with.
My one complaint is over the grains of sugar that disrupt the chocolate’s smoothness. In a few cases, it can be a nice aspect, but it doesn’t belong here. Still not a huge deal. It’s very enjoyable, though being USDA Organic and Fair Trade, it’ll set you back around six dollars for 100 grams.
Another treasure from Rainer and Oliver of Premier Food and Beverages is the pan-poured Momami Creation ‘Frisch geschopfte confiserie chocolade.’ My understanding is that it is milk chocolate with cranberries.
Rainer reckons that hand-poured chocolate might take a while before Aussies get into it, presumably because it – ahem – might remind them of a cow pat instead. I then pointed out that Melba’s chocolates, which are based in the Adelaide Hills in South Australia, actually do make chocolate cow pats that sell like hot cakes…
Back to Momami. Their website is in German, so when you activate the translate button it can be rather amusing to see a few slightly jumbled up descriptions. It is thankfully possible to find out that their milk chocolate contains a minimum 34% cocoa solids and eight percent of cranberries.
As you can see, this ‘cow pat’ is rather pretty actually, with a generous handful of cranberries thrown in which makes it seem as though they make up considerably more than the relatively measly eight percent stated on the ingredients panel in my opinion.
On first taste, the milk chocolate is very nice. It is creamily smooth and sweet, and eventually I started chewing more intently to release a cranberry or two. Erk – the bitter tang of the cranberries rather forcefully cut through the pleasant chocolately start with a jarring, discordant note for a few seconds before eventually easing off and blending in a bit better with the chocolate. It was like eating a sour orange – doable but not entirely desirable.
I like the idea of what they’ve done here but I’m just not sure that the two flavours are a completely successful pairing. This could be a much better match if the cranberries were combined with a dark chocolate.
However, the Momami website mentions a few other fillings that are also available in their hand-poured milk chocolate and they all sound a great deal more appealing – Caramelised and roasted hazelnuts; roasted salted almonds; honey and cornflakes; and currants (which, looking at the photograph more carefully, is the automatic translation from German and is likely to be the cranberries I’ve just tasted). I would be much more keen to try the other flavours.
Pesek Zman is an old favourite of mine. It’s usually presented as a single, narrow bar of flat chocolate squares filled with wafer and hazelnut cream. On a recent visit to Israel, I discovered that apart from the growing assortment of flavour variations that now complement the “classic” milk chocolate bar (dark chocolate, white chocolate, sugar-free chocolate, etc.) the milk and white chocolate versions now also appear as bigger bars, divided into long fingers rather than the squares. Pesek Zman means “time out” in Hebrew. Perhaps Elite, the company that makes these bars, thinks people need longer breaks nowadays. I decided to give the new white bar a try and see how the new shape affected it. I’ve seen quite a few bars that did not benefit from such a transition.
Pesek Zman was and is a mass market bar. The packaging is functional and the logo instantly recognisable to anyone in Israel. It’s indeed the sort of thing you would grab to have as a snack, rather than serve your guests after dinner or give as a gift. Each chocolate finger is branded with the logo, though, which I thought was quite a nice touch for an otherwise completely bland-looking bar.
The first thing I noticed when biting into the bar is that it’s quite crunchy. The squares from the original bars have a much softer feel until you get to the wafer itself, which I do believe adds to the sensation when eating them and makes them feel more indulgent. Having a softer bar makes it easier to savour the taste as if you’re really taking a time out to enjoy the chocolate.
In the new bar, the sensation is more like biting through a KitKat, which is not nearly as sensual. Maybe longer breaks are not the issue here, but rather having shorter, less fulfilling breaks but, well, more of them.
Still, the combination of flavours is as winning as ever with the white chocolate and hazelnut cream blending together into a very lovely sweetness that is both cheery and comforting and not at all overwhelmingly sweet: definitely a smile with every crunch. Elite certainly wasn’t the first to think of combining hazelnut and white chocolate but they have certainly done a good job in making it work here.
This is still a good treat that can certainly hit the spot with or without a hot drink. The bigger size does have an obvious advantage of offering more chocolate, though for the true Pesek Zman experience I would still reach for the original, smaller size.
Oh woe is me! I weakened.
I finally broke open this pack that I’ve been saving since late last year when we brought it back from the far side of the world. One of the few remaining chocolates left that we smuggled past border guards, through grumpy airport security, past customs and sniffer dogs. Not quite hidden in shoes, but the stash WAS spread amongst several items of luggage – on the grounds that if some were confiscated, the rest might not be found.
I’m not actually all that mad keen on chilli in my chocolate. Most chilli chocolates I’ve come across have too much. This includes the Lindt Excellence range, which I can easily go past, it’s just too intense. I’ve watched on in amazement, though, at my chilli guzzling colleagues at work who can demolish a whole block without blinking. Then turn around and say that it needs a bit more oomph. Hmmm.
So I approached this one with a mixture of curiosity and, perhaps, a little respect. Result: I’ve been hugely surprised on the upside. This is a fantastic creation from Lindt. The chocolate is a dark 70%, with a rich earthy aroma when you open the pack. The liquid filling is not bitter at all, but is sweet and carries a hint of cherry. The chilli hits a bit later, and when it does it brings a gentle lift to the flavour with a tiny bit of zing; it’s Baby Bears chilli: Juuuuuuust Right. Through huge self-control, I’ve only eaten two pieces. The rest better watch out though, their numbers are all nearly up.
Zees cleffer Chermans, you zee, zay haf zees vundervull sssssschocolades zat ze rest of uz juzt dream off. Zoze nize peepl from Lindt, zay make all zees type off ssssssschocolates zat uz eeenglish zpeakers are not good enuff to buy.
The Edelbitter range seems to be limited to Germany, and I’m rotten with jealousy and rage. What’s not to like? With varieties like this one (Sauerkirch-Chili / Sour Cherry & Chilli); Orange; Zitrone-Basilikum / Lemon & Basil; and Blaubeer-Lavendel / Blueberry & Lavender. These are some pretty impressive flavour combinations. I only managed to bring one home. I’d love to try the rest, and to see these sold further afield – like down in the bottom end of the planet, where skies are blue, it doesn’t rain enough, and Cadbury rules the supermarket roost.
