I can’t tell you exactly why, but there’s something about these over-sweetened, mass produced, 25% cocoa aerated chocolate stars that I find hard to resist.
Their unique texture makes them melt in your mouth very quickly, and there’s no denying the high sugar content has quite a kick. Other than that, they’re overpriced, over sweet, low in cocoa and milk solids and very obviously mass produced.
Despite everything about these being ‘wrong’ I still love ’em. But only occasionally. In fact if I eat more than one bag at a time I feel icky.
Forgive me, Chocablog.
It’s a little known fact that Prince Charles spends most of his free time making chocolate. And the reason it’s little known is primarily because it’s completely untrue.
But these chocs are from the Prince’s Duchy Orignals line, and that’s something I find a little odd. I always thought “the company” produced organic foods grown in Cornwall. And I’m not convinced that Charlie Boy grows either oranges or cocao in the Duchy of Cornwall.
But I digress.
I bought these chocs at the same time as the Kshocolât Orange Slices I reviewed a few days ago, with the intention of comparing two upmarket orangey chocolates. Having not heard rave reviews about other Duchy products, I fully expected the Kshocolât to come out on top.
Well, I was wrong. Despite being incredibly simple (large discs of milk chocolate, flavoured with orange oil), these are really rather good!
They somehow manage to be both creamy and tangy without being sickly. The organic, 20% milk chocolate isn’t very strong, but it’s obviously high quality. And the flavour and aroma of real oranges really comes through.
It’s also worth noting I paid £6 (about $12.30) for this 200g box, which makes them less than half the price of Kshocolat’s offering.
There’s nothing amazing about these chocs, but they’re good quality, tasty and pretty good value too. Recommended – especially as a gift for a Terry’s Chocolate Orange lover who’s trying to move up in the world.
A few aeons ago I wrote about ‘Heaven’ milk chocolate that started life in the corner shop freezer as a high-end ice-cream and mutated into a decidedly delicious bar instead. Even though my first sample bar had melted a few times and turned white, I absolutely loved it.
Well, since then I’ve been fortunate enough to meet Heaven’s new cousin, Chocolate Caramel, more than once (and hope to continue the relationship on a much more regular basis). Luckily the ones I’ve ‘met’ have been un-melted, remained the acceptable brown colour and have tasted even more delectable than their plainer relative. These Heaven bars are a bit more expensive than your run of the mill Cadbury and Nestle bar ranges, but worth finding an extra few twenty cent pieces (10p?) for.
Please allow me to digress for a minute about my issue regarding the Heaven ‘family’ blocks. Why do quality ‘family blocks’ have to be so stingy? In the case of Heaven, they weigh 140g compared to Cadbury’s 250g blocks, so it begs the question of exactly what ‘families’ they are aiming at. It’s my view they’re for well-off, single-person households as opposed to families of more than one person. Side by side, the two blocks look about the same height and width but Heaven’s are much flatter; obviously designed in the hopes that the average shopper won’t notice the weight and will be prepared to shell out double the price.
No matter. As you can see, I consider Heaven Chocolate Caramel the ideal companion with a strong cup of coffee at morning break time. These seven luscious squares of almost-Lindt-level chocolate filled with a thin layer of runny, rich caramel really hit the spot at 10:30am. (Oh who am I kidding; this photo was taken at 8:30am and the coffee and chocolate imbibed a few seconds later). It was a relief to discover that the caramel filling is not the burned condensed milk mess that is often found in cheaper bars but a clearer, runnier style that resembled a more toffy-like, brown-sugary texture.
Yes, dear Dark Side lovers, Heaven Chocolate Caramel is a milk chocolate bar, but done extremely well. Even if your preferences do go to the Dark Side (as mine do), it is still easy to appreciate how superbly Heaven’s chocolate complements the caramel filling. I’ll keep my fingers crossed that some day, some how, someone here in Australia (or the UK) will perfect a dark chocolate and caramel combination that will be good enough for me to overlook the Scroogy size of their ‘family’ block.
Finding myself in John Lewis on a Saturday afternoon in late October, there was nothing else for it. I would have to refrain from tearing down the Christmas decorations in a fit of rage (Christmas decorations! It’s October for God sakes!), and head for the chocolate section instead.
I came home with a selection of orangey chocolates, including these. I have to admit to being primarily attracted to the shiny tin they came in, but didn’t have much of an idea of what to expect from Kshocolât.
The paper sleeve that keeps the tin closed informs me these are “A fabulous after dinner treat” and “Perfect for dinner parties”. At this point, I was starting to get a little worried. I’m always wary of chocolate that tells me how I should eat it. Then came the killer blow:
Kshocolat Ltd. Suite 64 Glasgow G51 3TR.
I may be biased, but both the “Suite 64” and “Glasgow” bits worry me. My concerns were magnified when I finally opened the tin:
Inside, we have eight slices of crystalised orange covered rather haphazardly with chocolate. I have to say I was disappointed, both by the quantity and quality on display here. I’d paid £6.50 (around $13.50) for this 100g tin.
My disappointment was just confirmed when I bit into one of these orange slices. The chocolate, while very thick, is decidedly tasteless. At 45% cocoa solids, I wasn’t expecting much, but this has none of the distinct bitterness of real dark chocolate, and was more akin to Cadbury’s cheapo Bournville.
Even the orange pieces themselves didn’t have much flavour. They were very chewy and quite sweet, but not particularly orangey. Which is a bit weird considering they’re simply slices of real orange.
There’s nothing offensive here. It’s just a decidedly average product masquerading as something posh. And that’s my real issue with this. A Scottish company with a nonsensical and unpronounceable name charging £6.50 for 8 small slices of orange and a tin that’s only really useful if I decide to store more small slices of orange of my own.
I really hate to have to slam a British chocolate company, but this is probably the worst value chocolate I’ve tasted. Ever. It’s a cheap, average product dressed up in fancy packaging and given a price that reflects the packaging, not the product itself.
Kshocolât’s slogan at the bottom of the paper sleeve is “The best way to understand is to experience“. Well here at Chocablog, we have a slogan too: “We buy this crap so you don’t have to“.
