I haven't always been an adventurous eater. I mean, granted, my tastes run in the direction of all things fried and generally unhealthy, but these days, I'm more inclined to order an ostrich and fiddlehead ratatouille than a chicken sandwich. For a long time, I had a celebrity taboo list of things I wouldn't eat, including peppers, mayonnaise, beef, anything older than me, and onions.
This dry period spanned into 2002, when I took my first trip to France. French bread and Nutella. French bread and Nutella. Kinder eggs. On French bread. With Nutella. And one snail. You get the picture. So after I expanded my palate and took a sensory, palatable trip for eight years, I was pleased to rediscover this bar, compacting one of my old favorites into a chocolate.
The appeal of this bar starts on the outside, with a wonderful and whimsically illustrated package, no corner left uncolored or bland. A cat and her mother share a bowl of bread and chocolate while some family portraits look on in admiration and potential jealousy. Can cats eat chocolate? Whatever, these can.
Inside, the bar is simplistic, but speaks for itself. A dark berry scent wafts up from the surface. The first bite is all dark chocolate, with a rich and fruity flavor. High quality stuff. But then the bread kicks in, small crispy bites with a short, but intense buttery note that adds an interesting flavor to the bar rather than textural difference. It's the best part of the bar, because rarely is butter featured as a flavor in a chocolate bar. It's a creamy and salty note, and I wish it was more prominently featured against the delicious bread crumbs. The crumbs stay crispy and crunchy inside the chocolate and maintain a staggered presence throughout the bar, though it's much easier to sense their presence if you suck away some of the chocolate first and let it melt. Delicious and innovative, though it seems to prompt mixed reactions.
This dry period spanned into 2002, when I took my first trip to France. French bread and Nutella. French bread and Nutella. Kinder eggs. On French bread. With Nutella. And one snail. You get the picture. So after I expanded my palate and took a sensory, palatable trip for eight years, I was pleased to rediscover this bar, compacting one of my old favorites into a chocolate.
The appeal of this bar starts on the outside, with a wonderful and whimsically illustrated package, no corner left uncolored or bland. A cat and her mother share a bowl of bread and chocolate while some family portraits look on in admiration and potential jealousy. Can cats eat chocolate? Whatever, these can.
Inside, the bar is simplistic, but speaks for itself. A dark berry scent wafts up from the surface. The first bite is all dark chocolate, with a rich and fruity flavor. High quality stuff. But then the bread kicks in, small crispy bites with a short, but intense buttery note that adds an interesting flavor to the bar rather than textural difference. It's the best part of the bar, because rarely is butter featured as a flavor in a chocolate bar. It's a creamy and salty note, and I wish it was more prominently featured against the delicious bread crumbs. The crumbs stay crispy and crunchy inside the chocolate and maintain a staggered presence throughout the bar, though it's much easier to sense their presence if you suck away some of the chocolate first and let it melt. Delicious and innovative, though it seems to prompt mixed reactions.
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