Chocolate Savvy

by Emily Gasser | Mental Mastication

Valentines Day is coming up fast – what are you buying? We all know the drill: If you’re part of a twosome, it’s all about chocolate, red roses and champagne; if you’re not, double the chocolate, cut the flowers and exchange the champagne for something a little stronger. But with ten kinds of flowers, fifteen of champagne, and more brands of bon-bons than I’d care to contemplate on store shelves, which to choose? The roses I can’t help you with – you’ll have to find a horticulture columnist for that – and champagne’s not really my thing, but chocolate, well… For the sake of journalistic integrity, I’ll give my bias up front: I’m a chocolate snob. In my oh-so-humble opinion, the only thing better than a Lindt 85% chocolate bar is a Hachez 88%. So if Hershey’s with almonds is your thing, you may disagree with my evaluations. What can I say? You’re wrong. But on to the tasting.

If you really want to impress that special someone, a box of assorted truffles from Pierre Marcolini’s on the Place du Grand Sablon in Brussels. If a trans-Atlantic flight seems excessive (and I’d argue it’s not), go for Lindt instead. I tasted a box of their Petits Desserts collection, where each candy was modeled after a different dessert. It was beautifully presented and mostly very good, but a little uneven. The macaroon was warm and almondy and the meringue was delicious with hints of hazelnut, but the brownie tasted strangely of raisins and we couldn’t tell the difference between the lemon tart and the crème brulée, which was especially surprising given how fantastic their crème brulée chocolate bar is. But Lindt is generally a reliable brand, and you could certainly do worse than this box.

If your true love is a Nutella fan, see if you can’t find them a bag of Baci by Perugina. I’m told that hazelnuts were first paired with chocolate during World War II, when chocolate supplies ran low and candy makers in Turin used the ground-up nuts to stretch their chocolate supply. Now it’s nearly impossible to find a chocolate bar in Europe without hazelnuts, and I honestly don’t understand why American companies don’t do the same. And baci means “kisses” in Italian, which makes it that much more appropriate for the holiday.

Harry and David may be famous for selling mail-order pears at exorbitant prices, but they make an awfully tasty truffle as well. The inside, dark and rich, smooth and creamy, was better than the outside which tasted a little off. They’re rather pricy though; for what you pay you’d be better off with the Lindt.

One brand which is a perennial favorite is Ghirardelli, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why. I tried their squares with mint filling and was not impressed. The chocolate had an odd, bitter flavor, and the too-sweet mint filling was gooey and overpowering. My advice: skip these.

Just for well-roundedness, I had to taste Russel Stover. The price was the first hint that something might be wrong. While the other boxes were in the three-to-eight-dollar range, this little heart-shaped package with a cartoon face on the front cost me exactly one dollar and nineteen cents plus tax. Inside was something brown and sugary; I’m not sure what to call it but it sure as hell wasn’t chocolate. Wax and corn syrup, perhaps. Actually, according to the ingredients list on the package, the first ingredient is chocolate (first ingredient of that: sugar) followed by sugar, then corn syrup, and, farther down the list, brown sugar. Figures. (In the Harry and David batch, chocolate liquor – a liquid extracted from cocoa beans, not an alcoholic beverage – is listed first, and, unlike in the Russel Stover batch, I can pronounce all the ingredients.) One truffle even tasted soapy. A side effect of the sodium metabisulfite? Who knows. In any case, I’m staying away.

But the best of the lot, and it’s truly difficult for me to say this, was actually made by Hershey’s. I bought a tin of their Cacao Reserve 65% dark chocolate truffle at CVS after hearing a friend rave about them. I gritted my teeth. I took a bite. And though a little part of me dies inside every time every time I admit it, the chocolate was good. Not perfect – the texture’s a little chalky, there’s a bit of a sour undertone to the flavor – but good. I’d go back for a second. But that still doesn’t mean I’d be caught dead with a bar of Special Dark.

As for the champagne: I’m not a big fan of the bubbly myself, but friends who are tell me that there are plenty of good options out there that won’t suck your textbook fund dry. A German sekt, Italian spumante, or other sparkling wines will often cost less and still taste pretty good. And if you insist that it say “champagne” on the label, a domestic bottle is probably cheaper than the French stuff, and there are many who prefer its flavor. For me, I’ll stick to the chocolate.

Published version: http://phoenix.swarthmore.edu/2007-02-15/living/16867