Chocolate. I think one of the amazing things about it is that there are so manh kinds that all fall under that one word. Like this bar. If you ever come across someone who doubts that chocolate is like falling in love, please refer them to a 100% bar. They’ll be unable to betray such a love.
With both delight and caution I approached my second Pralus bar. Underneath its wrapper (this time not so crooked), it greets you with an enchantingly bitter smell. The first piece is also bitter on your tongue, with the kind of bitterness that stings. But about halfway through, a cool, sweet flavor ushers in the gentler part of the journey. Despite being dark, this is quite a fresh bar. The first piece can be a little difficult, but it’s much more amiable after that. I usually stop at one or two pieces, but this bar kept calling to me. The relationship between it and my mouth wasn’t ready to come to an end, just when it was becoming most tender. Instead, I finished one of the columns of four.
This bar was different from a 98% I once had. That one had the usual flavor notes of this or that, but this one, well, tasted more holy like chocolate. Er, I mean, wholly.
Not to the faint-hearted, but rather the tender-hearted, I recommend this loving chocolate or another 100% that you find. And we all have a little tenderness, don’t we? If it’s hidden for the moment, don’t worry: I’ve found that Pralus makes me very happy.
You can probably tell from the photograph above why this bar caught my eye. You can see the bar through the packaging and it’s absolutely packed with crystallised ginger. It must have made an impact because I bought this without even thinking about it… and I don’t even like ginger!
I’m not usually a fan of plastic packaging, especially on an organic product, but I have to admit that seeing the actual chocolate bar through the clear plastic box is probably what sold it to me.
As you can see, once out of the decidedly non-organic plastic box, the bar looks even more tempting. A deliciously dark looking chocolate, heavily studded with sparkly ginger chunks. But the clever bit is underneath…
Yes, the chunks are on the bottom. Clever.
But of course, the important thing is how it tastes. And as you might have guessed, the overwhelming flavour here is of ginger. Lots of ginger – a little too much for my liking. But those big chunks do add a wonderful texture to that bar, and the taste of the rich, smooth, 62% dark chocolate still comes through – and is utterly delicious.
This is definitely one for people who like a bit lot of ginger. It’s obviously been made with a lot of care and the result is a wonderful, chunky, hand made bar that’s packed with flavour.
I’m looking forward to trying some of The Cocoa Tree’s other offerings.
Shortly after my review of the (somewhat average) Gorenjka milk chocolate from Slovenia was published, a rather lovely thing happened. It began with a comment posted by a reader and culminated in her sending me a selection of fine quality Slovenian chocolate for my perusal. So, before I begin this review I ought to thank BeeBee for both her generosity and pride in her country’s chocolatiers.
I was asked what sort of things I would be interested in, and of course I asked for anything unique to Slovenia or just strange and unusual, and she came through in spades on the ‘unusual’ front with this – a 70% dark chocolate bar with Cedar.
Yes, that’s right cedar, as in the tree.
All joking about chocolate logs aside (I thought I’d get that one in before Kath) I was intrigued. How on earth does one flavour a chocolate bar with wood? Well, the answer would appear to be “with the sap of the tree”. The underside of this bar is studded with numerous gelatinous blobs which have a distinctly ‘foresty’ aroma and taste. It’s a very subtle, natural flavour (in case you were thinking pine scented bathroom freshener) with a light, citrus note combined with an earthier ‘undertaste’. On the palate the overall effect is not dissimilar to breathing forest air – very unusual indeed. The jellied blobs vary in consistency too, from ‘melts away almost at once’ to ‘quite chewy’, so there’s plenty to occupy your mouth as the chocolate melts.
The chocolate is, of course, the crux of the matter, and at 70% it’s a good strong blend with deep cocoa notes which expand outwards into a bittersweet, vanilla-chocolate-coffee complex. It has an excellent soft mouthfeel and never manages to overpower the added cedar sap blobs.
I have to say that this must be one of the oddest (if not the oddest) things I’ve ever come across in a chocolate bar, so top marks to my new Slovenian friend for picking this one out. Oddness alone is no guarantee of either quality or edibility though, so I’m glad to report that adding tree sap to chocolate (albeit as a separate entity) has worked out well for Rustika, and has also proven to me that there is good quality chocolate to be had in Slovenia.
I’ve always heard about Reese’s pieces and knew that they were powerful enough to lure ET out of the garden shed, but seeing as they’re only available in tiny and expensive little boutique choccy shops and cost a fortune, I’ve avoided trying them until now. Peanut butter M&Ms on the other hand, I have tried and raved about for chocablog before, but have also relegated them to the ‘expensive import’ basket – even though I was desperate enough to write to Mars Confectionery Australia to find out why they don’t make them here (something to do with not being bothered enough to import the machinery required, the mean sods).
One day however, they called out to me from my local specialty chocolate shop. That and a PMS-led craving for peanut butter saw me at home with both bags ready to try and compare.
As with the Ferrero Rocher garden ‘crème filled confections’, I realised after nearly inhaling half the bag of Reese’s pieces that they don’t contain even a tiny skerrick of chocolate. Not that I minded; they still tasted pretty nice and creamy to me and if I was blindfolded, I doubt I’d be able to tell that there wasn’t some chocolate underneath the candy coating and between the peanut butter. The ingredients do not make for relaxing reading – sugar, partially defatted peanuts, partially hydrogenated vegetable oil, reduced minerals, whey, corn syrup and lots of artificial colours and wax and glaze for the sheen. Hmm, I didn’t feel quite so chipper after that.
And so it was time to drown my disappointment and sorrow with a bag of peanut butter M&Ms. Before, when I considered that Reese’s pieces tasted as though they had chocolate in them, I had not yet had the chance to remind my all-too-eager-to-be-pleased taste buds of what the real chocolate and peanut butter combination was like.
Bloody brilliant. These little gems make Reece’s pieces look like the unfortunate combination of de-fatted, partially hydrogenated, carnauba waxed and glazed imposters. Or an explosion of techno monkey poop. Even M&Ms ingredients were initially more real sounding with chocolate and sugar at numbers one and two per volume, but then those creepy sounding ‘partially defatted peanuts’ popped up again, along with the ‘partially hydrogenated palm kernel oil’. How on earth does one partially de-fat something? Is it like confectionery liposuction but some of it is pumped back? Or the poor little nuts are placed in seaweed wraps and forced to sweat some of their oils out?
Perhaps it is best for this process to remain a mystery but I will continue my lament to Mars Australia – please can’t you make peanut butter M&Ms here and maybe just with normal-sounding, unadulterated peanuts? Please??
