Vive le Manger!*

Hi everyone -


Just got back from exploring the joys of Paris with my little sister, who was here to visit (although, let me tell you, those joys are a lot less joyful in rain and near-freezing winds. In July. Le sigh.)


And somehow, in between stocking up on various pates from Le Grande Epicerie (food hall heaven!), mistakenly buying nearly two kilos of bread from famous baker Poilane (I panicked! I don't speak French well...or at all), and stuffing myself silly on baked egg in foie gras and duck with blackberry sauce at my favorite restaurant in Paris - nay, maybe my favorite restaurant in the WORLD - I somehow managed to get my hands on some cheap chocolate bars so I could have something to review. Now that I'm finally recovering from my eating fest, here they are!


The first bar I got was a Nuts, simply because it fit with the model of getting bars with funny/ridiculous/unappetizing names when I visit other countries. The Nuts (hee) bar is creamy, light colored nougat with a layer of caramel on top, all covered in a very thick layer of milk chocolate. The added ingredient that makes the bar so nutty are the chunks of hazelnut buried in the nougat.

Now this sounds fantastic - and could probably be that way if some essential modifications were made. The nougat was lovely - light and whipped, kinda like a Three Musketeers bar from the US (one of my favorites). The caramel wasn't overly sweet, and the chunks of hazelnuts were big and crunchy. But somehow it just didn't all come together. Because the hazelnut chunks are just floating in the nougat, the contrast between tastes and textures was just too strong. Now, I like added crunchiness in my bar probably more than the average person, but it veered too much towards the chocolate-covered pretzel kind of mix of sweet and non-sweet (even salty) that I totally abhor. Seriously, how does a salted caramel macaroon from Laduree taste oh so good but this tastes oh so slightly wrong? A nice bar all the same, and a middling 2.5 bars - if only the hazelnuts weren't ruining the rest of it for me.


The next one I tried was slightly harder to find. My sister and I saw it advertised in cafes all over town but weren't able to find one until we passed a corner store with a generously stocked candy section somewhere near Bastille. The bar in question was a Ballisto, and it was worth the hunt!


So I almost completely missed reviewing this bar. That's because, after squeezing myself onto the Metro and then waiting an hour standing up to see the fireworks on Bastille Day, I ate it in a sugar-starved frenzy. Luckily , there happened to be two bars in the pack (much like a Twix). Otherwise I don't think I would have had enough recollection of what it tasted like to go on. (Don't judge - being a tourist is hard work.)

The variety of Ballisto I tried was honey and almonds - or at least that's what it said on the wrapper. What I got didn't taste entirely of these two ingredients, but it was delicious. The bar consists of two thin fingers of a crunchy cookie-like bottom with a light-colored cream (which I assume is the 'honey and almond' part) on the top, all covered in milk chocolate. The cookie base was fantastic, kinda hovering somewhere between the taste of a graham cracker and the consistency of Chips Ahoy. The cream was sweet but not too sweet, and added just enough substance to still make it feel like a candy bar and not a chocolate-covered cookie. My only complaint was that the chocolate on the outside could have been a little thicker, but all in all, one of my faves so far! 4.5 bars.


In total, that works out to an average of 3.5 bars, but seriously, it's Paris, so I'm going for 5 bars in commemoration. And also to mark the discovery of another non-chocolate confection - supermarket-brand strawberry cones. MMMMMMMMM French gummies. Vacation WIN.

Bar-o-Meter


* Badly translated by Google Translate, this is my attempt to title the post 'Hooray for eating!'

Crunch Time

I've repented for my evil, rule-breaking ways of last week, and have finally picked up a Crunchie from the local shop. I promise, I'll never stray from the straight and narrow path of sequential chocolate bar tasting again. (Unless, that is, I have another day at work that drives me absolutely crazy and in need of some serious chocolate therapy...but of course that would NEVER happen. Obviously.)


So, the Crunchie. It's a bar consisting of pretty much straight honeycomb covered in a layer of milk chocolate. Honeycomb (and I'm not sure that this actually exists in America) is a British treat consisting of hardened but slightly chewy sugar - see here. I'm generally not a fan, as it only tastes of sugar and has the annoying habit of getting stuck to your teeth. So an entire bar of it didn't seem too appetizing - or interesting!

I have to say, the bar wasn't as bad as I expected. The garish, orangey-colored honeycomb (THAT can't be natural) was overly sugary and sweet, but the chocolate layer surrounding it was actually thick enough to provide a good contrast. The middle is nice and light, and veers towards a meringue-like texture, rather than a teeth-cracking or overly gooey candy (both of which I've had in the past).

I was actually going to give it a halfway decent rating until the aftertaste kicked in. While the chocolate covering does a good job of toning down the honeycomb flavor while you're eating the bar, the only taste that actually remains after a few minutes is sugar. Boo. This bar is wildly unexciting, although not as bad as I expected. Let's give it 2 bars to prove it wasn't totally inedible.


Next week I'm off to Paris (joy!) and while I'll be on the hunt for some kind of slaggy chocolate bar to review (do the French even DO bad chocolate?), I'll more likely be stuffing my face with crepes, baguettes, pastry, and cheese galore. Vive le obesite!

Bar-o-Meter



Flaking Out

Dear Readers - 


I've got to come clean. I've broken my own candy bar blogging rules. I thought I could get away with it but I just couldn't keep silent any longer. Go ahead and judge, but I had my reasons.

After a particularly stressful week, and with a raging hangover, I headed over to the regular shop for a new candy bar. But the selection completely failed me - first a Starbar, which I found out is actually the same as a Wunderbar (see post on Germany), which was a close miss. (Imagine the horr of reviewing the same bar twice!) 


Then about 7 different varieties of the big Cadbury's Dairy Milk (Dairy Milk, Dairy Milk with Fruit, Dairy Milk with Nuts, Dairy Milk with Fruit and Nuts, etc.), which I skipped as I've experienced Cadbury's chocolate covering about half the bars so far, and since Morgan pointed out it would mean I'd be eating virtually the same bar for a month and a half. Then a Bounty, which is basically an American Mounds, so an easy skip there.

But here comes the egregious flaunting of the rules. I looked to where the next bar should be and it was a Crunchie. Now, I've eaten a Crunchie before, but I think my reading of the rules only rules out any bar that I've eaten before IN AMERICA. A Crunchie, no matter how disgusting to me, still falls within the reviewing criteria. But I was dehydrated and craving sugar and totally pissed off for a number of reasons, so I skipped it. And then I skipped the next one. Let's face it, a Flake just isn't interesting. It needs to be put into a soft-serve ice cream cone most of the time just to jazz it up. So I went for the next one, a 'special' variety of Flake.

But I've repented, and I went back the following week for the regular Flake, for a special double review. (I'm not sure I can handle the Crunchie yet, but I'll get there eventually). 


I'm not sure why I thought this would be a terrible task. I LOVED the original Flake. It had a perfect crumbly texture - the flakes of smooth milk chocolate broke up and melted  so nicely, that I almost (ALMOST) felt it deserved the reaction of the creepy soft-porn like commercials my co-workers insisted I watch before reviewing this bar. It was like it crumbled and melted at exactly the same rate. It's like a milk chocolate pillow! Yum - a classic, and deservedly so. Four bars.

The special Flake on the other hand, was a bit of a disappointment. The 'special' aspect of this bar - called the 'Flake Allure' - is a thick layer of soft chocolate 'truffle' coating the bottom half of the bar. This does absolutely nothing to add to the deliciousness of the Flake - if anything, it actually takes something away from the simplicity of the original bar. The 'truffle' has a different chocolate flavor than the Flake itself, taking away from the milk chocolate loveliness of the inner bar. The outer layer also means the bar holds together better and doesn't crumble away as satisfyingly as the regular Flake. Not a terrible tasting bar but points off for messing with a good thing - only two bars.

So a combined three bars for the two varieties of Flake. As there seem to be new versions of tried and tested bars popping up everywhere (chunky KitKats, everything under the sun covered in dark chocolate instead of milk, etc.), I might do this kind of review more often - it was kinda fun trying two bars so similar to each other (and yet so dissimilar in deliciousness!). Just goes to show, why ruin a good thing when you have it? And next time, I'll be less disdainful of the good things which seem a little too boring to review - I could miss out on a treat! 


But that treat won't be a Crunchie, I can tell you that. Ew.

Bar-o-Meter