Time for another of Askinosie’s “CollaBARation” bars, a range produced in collaboration with other artisan food producers. This particular bar is made with Swedish liquorice maker Lakritsfabriken.
The front of the bar follows the standard Askinosie format, with the name of the company spelled out on each large chunk of chocolate. But the back of this bar is a little different.
As you can see, it’s littered with pieces of organic, gluten-free salted black liquorice and anise seed. There’s also fleur de sel and goats milk in the chocolate, so as you might expect, it’s not subtle.
Even if you try to get a sense of the chocolate by placing a piece liquorice-side-up on your tongue, your mouth is still immediately filled by that intense flavour and aroma. This may be a hefty 62% milk chocolate, but it still quickly fades into the background.
I do think it’s a good choice of chocolate for this bar though, as it does have a certain creaminess that goes well with the liquorice, and it’s neither too sweet nor too bitter.
In the end, how much you like this bar comes down to whether or not you like liquorice, as that’s the predominant flavour by far.
What I love about it is that it’s just so different from other chocolate I’ve had recently. Askinosie are of course, a top bean-to-bar chocolate maker, and it always makes me happy when real artisans make fun, non-traditional flavours like this. It may be more high-end confectionery than than it is fine chocolate, but I still like it.
I have written before about a few in the selection of Mikado chocolate from Croatia. As seems to be the way of these things, I’ve kept the best until last. Of course this was carefully planned.
This Mikado Menta is a 72% chocolate with mint. As I’ve written before (many times… feel like a broken record), mint in chocolate takes me back to the 70’s when the height of sophistication here in the land down under, was “Red Tulip After Dinner Mints”*. About the same time there was a Crime Drama series on TV (was it Hazell?) where one of the characters was known as “Choc Minty”. Sigh.
I never quite understood the appeal of After Dinner Mints: chocolate and sweet minty goo just puts me off; it’s not very appealing. So I’m very hard to please. The other participants in the weekly meeting are, perhaps, not so fussy.
After all this waffle, the inevitable question must be asked: what’s the chocolate like?
As usual with this selection of Croatian chocolates, it was broken up, tasted, and photographed in the weekly progress meeting. I certainly get some strange looks for doing that but hey, it’s worth it!
And the chocolate is actually pretty good, it has a pleasant richness, in both taste and aroma. There is no goo – the mint is just part of the chocolate; it is quite pleasant and certainly not overpowering.
The collective criticisms of the tasting panel were that the chocolate has a gritty appearance, and the mint leaves a slightly harsh after-taste. Neither of these are offensive. The gritty look is only in appearance, it has no effect on taste or texture. The mint after-taste is more of a concern, however you do need to be fairly fussy to detect it. Even the dark-chocolate-hater thought this was OK. Her normal reaction to anything darkish is that it is too bitter. This time, however, even she could go back for more.
The general view was that this is the best of the Mikado range we tried. If mint chocolate is your thing, see if you can find one of these.
Cadbury & Fry Through Time is a new book by Paul Chrystal that chronicles the history of two of the biggest names in British chocolate. The book covers the complete history of both companies from inception to present day, but concentrates on the early period.
It’s a 96 page paperback book, but the most striking thing about it is the illustrations. It’s packed with around 180 wonderful advertising images, photos and documents, some of which may be familiar, but the vast majority are new to me.
With so many beautiful images, there isn’t a lot of room for text, but there’s enough to tell the story. Cadbury and Fry merged after the First World War, but the book looks at each brand separately and is divided into two chapters, one for each company. The format works well, but I found the images too distracting to read it from cover to cover, and had to keep flicking through the book, stopping to examine familiar images, brightly coloured advertising posters and fascinating photos.
This book is all about the illustrations, so don’t expect a detailed textual history of Cadbury or Fry. What you will get is a glimpse into the past and the humble beginnings of what became giants of the chocolate industry. Of course, both Cadbury & Fry exist only as brands of American food giant Kraft now, so for me the nostalgia is tinged with sadness, and a sense that we’ve lost this piece of our history forever.
Cadbury & Fry Through Time by Paul Chrystal is published by Amerbley Publishing. RRP £14.99
“Greetings, Milk Chocolate Almond Toffee. How are you today?” No answer. “And how is your cousin, White Chocolate Macadamia Nut?” Blank stares from both. “Is that so? Well, I’m afraid I can’t sympathize with your fears: I am one of those people planning to eat you. Oh, no, no, don’t be frightened: I promise I’ll make it quick, though I can’t say it won’t be messy…”
Excuse my conversing with inanimate objects.
These two victims of mine are from Pioneer Candy Company, which hails from Colorado. Hence, the mountains and the covered wagon – although, I admit, I don’t usually think of Colorado as pioneer territory. I’m rather a bit intrigued, though, by the brown boxes in which the toffee dwells: while simple, they have a small amount of sparkle that gives an established touch. Lifting off the lids reveals a further layer beneath which the victims try and hide. There are two brown flaps to cover the toffee, the edge of the top flap being also an outline of mountains; when you raise it, there stands a grand Colorado mountain range. Love it.
The pieces of toffee, which are handmade in small batches inside copper kettles, come in varying sizes. The smaller pieces have the most to fear from me since they are easier to snatch up and munch away on. It turns out that the larger pieces are more deadly to me: breaking them up might knock off some of the toppings, so I just bite in. And once I’ve started on a piece, how can I stop? I don’t understand why toffee should be one of my weaknesses; that’s just the way the world works.
As you can see, this toffee is fairly thick and generously coated. It’s difficult to get a grasp on Victim A’s milk chocolate other than to say that it adds a creamy flavor to the mix. The toffee is of a slightly harder, more orange variety than some; in honesty, I think I prefer the toffees that border closer to delicate. However, this style is fitting for the pioneer theme. Because of the toffee’s thickness and the amount of almonds, there is as much crunchy texture as you could wish for and enough sweetness that you do need all those almonds for balance.
Victim B doesn’t have any chocolate. The white chocolate is more like a sweet cream keeping the macadamia nuts in place. The large, triangular shape of the pieces and the white and yellow colors makes them look like peanut butter and honey sandwiches. I suppose you could say they taste like that, too. I think it’s fair at least to say that this bunch is sweeter and less salty than the first. But that might just make it easier to absentmindedly nibble. I must point out, though, that the toffee in this box did feel too thick: a tad thinner would be better.
In case you prefer drawing out your toffee-torturing, you can store it for three weeks in the refrigerator or six months in the freezer. It’s pleasant toffee, if you find yourself in Colorado with a confection craving. Of if you find yourself at home with two boxes of it that somehow never make it to the safety of the refrigerator because you’re too busy snacking on it.
