ZOMG, Candy!

My roommate brought home a pack of these Sugar and Spice-flavored version of Aunt Sally’s Creamy Pralines after her trip home to New Orleans. I nabbed one and filed it away in my candy stash, where it promptly got forgotten.

Thankfully, per Roddy’s urging on the ZOMG, Candy! Facebook discussion page, I dug it out and ate it up. And I sent Roddy a box of candy for his trouble (incentive for you to join the Facebook page!).

A praline, in the Southern sense, is a mixture of sugar, nuts, and cream. New Orleans pralines, like mine, feature pecans as the nut of choice.

This sugar & spice flavored praline was intriguing because of the bottle of Tabasco and the Tabasco logos that decorated the packaging. I think it’s the first Tabasco candy I’ve ever come across.

Alas, this praline had seen better days. I think it was a combination of elapsed time and summer heat wave that left it slightly melted, shiny, and droopy. Not exactly appetizing.

Pecans are a relatively soft nut to start; the ones in my praline had softened further, along with the praline itself. I wish I had eaten this while it was fresh. Based on the other pralines I’ve had before, I’m pretty sure it’s supposed to be crisp.

The praline initially tasted lightly spicy but was mostly sweet and savory. The pecans added their mild but distinct flavor.

The texture was grainy and soft (again, the disclaimer that mine may have softened with time/heat wave). As the sugar grains melted away, a powerfully tingly underlying heat came through.

I don’t think it’s fair of me to review this praline as is because the texture may have changed, so my O rating comes with a grain of salt. I found the spiciness to be unique and interesting enough that I’m glad I tried the praline, but the sweet and savory flavor threw me for a bit of a loop.

My friend, the newly minted Dr. Neil (congratulations, Neil!), is soon moving from Rochester to the Netherlands for a post-doc position. This makes me very sad because Neil is one of my favorite people, and I will miss him lots when he’s gone.

Neil is one of my favorite people because he’s now gone to the Netherlands twice, and both times, he brought me back Dutch candy. I should note that it’s not the candy-bringing itself that makes Neil endearing (I’d like to think that my affections are not so easily purchased); it’s that the candy-bringing is just one example of how Neil is a kind and thoughtful friend.

On his last trip, he brought me back a Nestle Bros bar. I had never heard of the Bros bar before and was initially confused at Neil’s email with the subject line, “Delivery” and the body, “Bros.” Was Neil going to bring me Dutch frat boys?

Nope. Turns out that the Bros bar is an aerated chocolate bar, pseudo-separated into six segments, each with a cute little bubble imprint on the top.

The wrapper touts the bars relatively low calorie count (131). This was both unsurprising – aerated chocolate is full of air, hence the lower caloric density – and surprising – low cal doesn’t quite fit my mental image of a Bro (FYI, Keystone Light is not actually lite). Though now that I think about it, I think the calorie count marking is just a difference in European nutrition/packaging laws.

The chocolate has a beautifully bubbled interior. I love the look of aerated chocolate so much! And I love the way it feels against the tongue, when the bubbles smoosh away and dissolve in the mouth.

It tasted thick and sweet, brightly fruity, with dusky cocoa notes. I wouldn’t call it dark or milk; instead, it fits the semisweet bill. In fact, it reminded me of semisweet Nestle Tollhouse chips.

I managed to eat the whole thing in one sitting. Fortunately, the aerated factor meant that I felt no guilt for scarfing a whole candy bar in one quick go. An OM, and my repeated wish that aerated chocolate was more bountiful in the U.S.

This brick of Cote d’Or Lait Noisettes (that’s milk hazelnuts) was part of my friend Neil’s Dutch candy haul. It really stood out because it was ginormous. Its size plus its pretty paper wrapper made it look like a fancy bar of soap.

The bar was so thick, in fact, that it was a bit intimidating. I couldn’t imagine how I would gnaw through the thing.

Fortunately, removing the paper wrapper revealed that the bar was actually divided height-wise into two thinner slabs, each foil wrapped and reasonably proportioned.

The underside of the bar was quite pebbly with all the hazelnut bits. The smell of the bar, however, diverged from its nutty appearance.

I found it a bit odd and hard to place – yogurt? or petrol? It wasn’t off-putting, exactly; just strange.

The individual slabs were further broken down into demarcated fingers, each beautifully stamped with the Cote d’Or name and elephant logo. I was impressed at how well the chocolate held its shape, especially since its milk chocolate-ness meant it had a super soft break.

The milk chocolate was absolutely lovely – thick and creamy, as milk chocolate should be. The hazelnut flavors came through loud and clear and provided a wonderful contrasting nuttiness.

I was greatly impressed at how fresh and flavorful this bar was. If only American mass produced milk chocolate could taste so good! An OM.

My friend Neil just got back from a trip to the Netherlands and was kind and awesome enough to bring me back a bunch of Dutch chocolates. When he handed me this Kinder Bueno White bar, he noted that I’d reviewed the regular version but not the white one, a blog fact that I didn’t know at the time. November 2007 was a long time ago!

Everything on the wrapper was written in both Dutch and French. My French isn’t that great, but I got that these were made with milk and hazelnuts, and I’d loosely translate the description as “two individually wrapped bars of white chocolate and cocoa meringue bits”.

The underside of the bars were coated with these little crunchy cocoa beads, and each of the four segments wore a stripe of the beads as well. While I think they were called meringues, they tasted like cocoa powder cookies.

The outer shells were airy, crisp wafers that provided structural stability and a pleasant crunch. Each segment pod was filled with an amazingly thick and creamy white chocolate filling.

The tasted strongly of milk and vanilla and was reminiscent of really high quality frosting. I didn’t get any hazelnut flavors, but I didn’t really care.

The filling was quite sweet, but it was nicely tempered by that wafer shell. It’s basically a non-cute version of the biscuit Kinder Happy Hippo, but with chocolate sprinkle/cookie bits.

The Kinder Bueno White was tasty and delicious (thanks, Neil!). I rated it an OM before I reread my old Happy Hippo review and saw that the Hippo version earned my highest rating. Looks like presentation does count for a lot!

These World’s Finest Chocolate bars came courtesy of my dad, who was apparently too kind-hearted to turn down the kid selling them as a fundraiser. According to Wikipedia, the World’s Finest Chocolate company makes their chocolate “from bean to bar”.

My dad bought a milk chocolate and a W.F. crisp (I assume that’s World’s Finest crisp) bar. Both had Pizza Hut coupons on the back of the wrapper – $2.00 off any large pizza!

The milk chocolate had a fairly sharp snap and a slight grain. It was sweet – a tad too sweet – with a mild milkiness.

W.F. Crisp was “milk chocolate with crisped rice”. The milk chocolate based was the same, while the bottom layer was chock full of airy rice crisps that added a nice crunch.

The bars weren’t bad, but the chocolate was pretty meh. I like my milk chocolate tongue-coatingly thick and with more depth, like caramel or vanilla flavors. And it was too sweet for my taste.

So, if a kid comes knocking on your door selling these to raise money, know not to get your hopes up too much. World’s Finest is just a brand name rather than an adequate descriptor. An O.

My friend Steve bought me this German Mozart Piano Bar at least a year ago. I’m sorry it took me so long to write about it, Steve!

The under-flap blurb describes it as “finest pistachio marzipan and hazelnut nougat in a crispy milk chocolate.” As you can see from the bumpy photo below, the milk chocolate was chock full of crunchy rice crisps.

The bar on the wrapper has neat rows of chocolate drizzles that don’t look very compelling. The real bar’s squiggles were far more interesting, with an abstract arty design.

The milk chocolate coating was sweet and one-dimensional. It surrounded a circle of green marzipan around a chocolate cream center.

The marzipan was soft and dryly grainy. It tasted lightly of actual almonds (as opposed to almond extract) with notes of pistachio – hence the green coloring.

The chocolate cream center was blandly sweet. I think it’s supposed to be hazelnut nougat, but I got no nuttiness whatsoever, though I won’t hold that against it – I did have it stashed for a while before I ate it.

The marzipan was nice, and I enjoyed the texture of the “crispy milk chocolate”, but I wished the chocolate were better quality. And I know Mozart is capable of doing better. An O.

Today wraps up New Zealand review week (here’s day one and two), brought to you by ZOMG, Candy! reader Saskia. And Schoc Chocolates, I suppose, as I’m reviewing a second item from their line: Lime Chili (they spelled it Chilli) in rich dark chocolate.

I’m a chili chocolate addict and love trying different takes on the mix, but this was my first time trying lime and chili and chocolate all together (lime and chocolate I’ve had before, but it was never memorable and/or poorly executed; I thought I’d never had it until I searched my archives). Schoc calls this bar a way to “push flavour with a balanced interactive taste sensation”.

The first thing I noticed about the bar was the scent. It smells just like Rose’s lime juice! In other words, bright, sweet, citrusy, and concentrated.

The lovely dark chocolate was speckled with bits of lime crystals – actually minuscule shreds of zest, I believe – that left flashes of intense lime flavor and sweetness on the tongue. The chili factor brought an underlying burn to the whole experience.

I found this bar zingy and delicious! The lime kept my taste buds alert while the chili burn smoldered in the background, and the dark chocolate tied everything together. I hope I can find a more easily accessible version in America! An OMG.

A final thanks to Saskia for putting together a much appreciated and enjoyed package of New Zealand goodies, and a final plug for Cybele’s Candy Swap forum, where candy lovers the world over can share their favorite candies and find new ones!

Review number two from my box of New Zealand chocolates, courtesy of Saskia (review one was on Monday), is a Kiwifruit Bliss Bar hand made by Bliss Chocolates (note: video plays upon loading Bliss Chocolates’ main page).

I’m pretty sure Saskia purposefully picked a kiwi-filled bar to be representative of New Zealand candy. Sadly, I was not a fan of this bar – though I did enjoy the cheerful green of the wrapper and the translucent green of the inside goop.

The first three ingredients in the “dark compound choc” were sugar, vegetable oil, and cocoa powder. Not a good thing when vegetable oil shows up so high (or at all) in an ingredients list for chocolate. Also not a good thing when cocoa butter never makes an appearance.

It reminded me of Palmer’s chocolate – poor quality, overly sweet with unpleasant tastes and aftertastes, and just not what I consider to be real chocolate. The green kiwi goop was super sweet and fruity, but I couldn’t get a clear read on it because the chocolate was just so overpoweringly blech.

My apologies go out to Saskia. It’s weird to publicly post negative opinions of gifts people give you. I feel like I sound horribly ungrateful. In fact, I value all tasting experiences as learning experiences, even when I don’t like what I’m tasting.

And I did not like this. The Kiwifruit Bliss Bar gets a sound – for its mockolate foul.

Reminder: check out Cybele’s Candy Swap forum if you want to set up your own candy swap!

Around Thanksgiving-ish, I did a candy exchange with Saskia, a ZOMG, Candy! reader from New Zealand. Quick tip – if you ship internationally via USPS, hang onto the customs form that they give you. That way, if the package you shipped in November still hasn’t arrived by late January, USPS can try to look it up for you. If you threw out the customs form thinking you’d never need it again (like I did), you’re out of luck, even if you have a sales receipt.

Luckily, the package finally turned up at the end of January, right as I was planning to pack and mail another box. Candy exchanges are fun, but international shipping ain’t cheap!

Anywho, Saskia sent me a lovely assortment of locally made Kiwi goodies. Enough goodies, in fact, to make this week all New Zealand reviews! First up is a Peanut Chili (they spell it Chilli) Cluster from Schoc. Check out the firecrackery tag!

They’re straightforwardly described on the website as “peanuts gathered in a dark chili chocolate”. I love the use of the verb “gathered” there. That’s basically what they are, but the simple description belies the complexity of the treat.

The dark chocolate was high quality, with a thick-ish melt and pleasant cocoa flavors. There was a nice initial crunch and strong peanuttiness from, you guessed it, the peanuts. But where was the chili?

Wait for it… There! After the chocolate melted away, the chili punched through with a tingly back of the throat burn. As I took more bites, the burn built up and melded with the chocolate and peanut flavors, as I couldn’t wait for the heat to fully dissipate before chomping up more peanut chili cluster.

A fun twist on my favorite combination of chili and chocolate. An OM.

Quick tip number two: if any of you readers would like to do a candy swap of our own, I suggest y’all check out Cybele’s forum on candy swaps to find a buddy. As much as I’d love to trade candy with you all, it’s too expensive for me to do often.

TCHO chocolates have long been on my radar. I finally got to try them when my roommates were kind enough to bring me a variety pack from California. The variety pack contained 2 each of their fruity, chocolatey, nutty, and citrus flavors.

All of the squares were about 5 centimeters across the diagonal and quite thin, just half a centimeter. All were comprised of 70% cacao.

“Fruity” was made with organic and fair trade beans from Peru. It had a sharp snap with a very dry mouthfeel. There was a definite red fruit fruitiness to it, but the overall flavor was dominated by the stale taste of paper/cardboard.

At first I thought I just had an off square – I had unwrapped it to take photos and then rewrapped it for later -  but that cardboard taste pervaded the other, not-unwrapped-until-tasting-time squares.

“Chocolatey” (beans from Ghana) smelled duskier and featured strong cocoa notes and an almost savory tinge. Its mouthfeel is also dry, but it’s a bit smoother/creamier once it starts melting. The paper/cardboard taste is present in the finish.

“Nutty”, made from organic and fair trade beans from Peru, was the softest and creamiest of the bunch, and it did carry a distinctly nutty favor. But that paper tinge is still there.

Finally, “Citrus” (organic beans from Madagascar) smells sweet and has a very dry and crumbly melt. It tastes a bit chalky with a sweet bright finish, and again that infuriating, ruinous tinge of paper/cardboard taste.

I think TCHO needs to rethink their packaging on these bars, as they all took on an unpleasant, papery overtone that ruined the taste experience. I’ve had them sitting around for a few months, but bars should keep for at least that long, especially when you’re selling them in 90-day supplies.

I’m torn on how to rate these. The paper taste warrants a –, but that doesn’t seem quite fair, as TCHO didn’t mean for them to taste of paper. Then again, they did choose the packaging and neglected to put a “best by” date on the package or any storage guidelines (that I could find) on their website. So the – stands, with the caveat that my supply was off.