ZOMG, Candy!

I recently had the pleasure of getting a candy sneak preview. Crown Candies sent me two boxes of their Borrachitos (Spanish for a little drunk, and a traditional Mexican treat, apparently). I got one each of their two available flavors: Tequila and Licor de Cafe.

Crown Candies imports these handmade candies from Mexico. They call them “gourmet caramel candies,” but, as I explained to David of Crown Candies, I find that a bit of a misnomer, as they aren’t actually caramels. Instead, they’re a soft jelly-like candy flavored with caramel (or dulce du leche, if you prefer) and liquor. The Tequila flavor is laced with Tequila (duh), and the Licor de Cafe with coffee liqueur (less intuitive if you’re unfamiliar with romance languages).

The borrachitos come inside a resealable plastic tub with paper dividers separating them from each other. That tub is then shrink-wrapped and packaged inside a box. The texture of the candy is hard to describe. It’s super soft and immediately gives way when you bite into it, yet there’s a slight chew to it, The white center is creamy and also soft. They’re covered in granulated sugar, presumably to keep them from sticking to each other and to add an extra touch of sweetness.

The Licor de Cafe had a lovely strong coffee liqueur flavor to it in addition to its caramel notes. I noticed an initial, barely perceptible mustiness to it, probably from the paper liner, but it wasn’t present enough for friends to notice when I shared the borrachitos. My band director proclaimed them to be “very good,” and he’s got a doctorate in music education (sorry; inside YUB joke).

The Tequila borrachitos (left three in below photo) were lighter in color than the Licor de Cafe flavored ones (right three below) - more golden than brown - and their mustiness was a little stronger, probably because they had a double-layered paper liner. David from Crown Candies assures me that they’ve stopped using the double layer and that they’re looking into plastic separators, so that should resolve that issue. He was so confident that he sent me a third box of borrachitos with the new packaging to taste, but I haven’t had a chance to get them yet because I’ve been out of town and without access to my PO box.

The Tequila borrachitos were also strong! They immediately taste of caramel, and then whoosh comes the alcohol flavor. I’m not hardcore enough to enjoy the Tequila flavor, but I think tequila lovers/hard liquor connoisseurs would enjoy it. The Licor de Cafe flavor was just right for me, with it’s slight but innocuous alcohol tinge. An O for the tequila. The Licor de Cafe isn’t something I would reach for as a casual snack, but I would indulge in a piece now and then and would offer it to company. It gets an OM. I wonder if Crown Candies has considered a chocolate liqueur version.

Borrachitos are available online from the Crown Candies website, and they’ll also be at the All Candy Expo in Chicago that’s going on next week.

Last Wednesday, I gave an unenthusiastic review to many Fannie May chocolates but promised that I would review more of their candies today. At the Fannie May store I visited, they had bins of individually wrapped chocolates priced the same as the boxed assortments ($20/lb). I picked out a milk praline, a milk peppermint, a dark French mint, and a butterscotch caramel.

milk praline - Ooh! A thick and creamy milk chocolate coating sweet toffee bits and a praline center (hazelnut praline, I think?). I got lovely dusky notes on this one.

milk peppermint - a great combination of thick and creamy milk chocolate coating a mint center. It was like an Andes mint, but bigger and better.

dark French mint - unlike the milk peppermint, this looked like dark chocolate all the way through. A strong mint smell due to its strong mint flavor. The mintiness lingered in the finish, along with a slighty sugary note at the end. Though the mint was super strong, the chocolate was still noticeable.

butterscotch caramel - this caramel had a strong, buttery scent. It was sticky, creamy and quite butterscotchy, with a slight greasiness to the touch.

I liked these much better than the assorted chocolates I picked out myself. The two milk ones are worth an OMG, while the dark French mint and the butterscotch caramel get an OM.

As Chicago Week continues, yet another delicious confection courtesy of the Cobbs: the Bear Claw (and a similar looking product here) made by Georgia Nut (bottom right in a poorly lit shot; sadly the only photo I have of it).

The Georgia Nut Bear Claw is a serious candy. It’s ginormous, about the size of the palm of my hand. Since you probably have no idea how big my hands are, here’s another measure. The 1 pound box (they’re well priced at $10.50/lb, by the way) from Mama Cobb contained 6-7 bear claws. Also, it’s crammed full of caramel and pecans and smothered in milk chocolate. And finally, it’s good. Real good.

The pecan halves are fresh and crunchy, and their saltiness goes wonderfully with the smooth, well-tempered milk chocolate and sweet, gooey caramel. The caramel was possibly on the verge of being too sticky, but I was too busy licking it off my fingers to care. The Georgia Nut Bear Claw, like a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup, manages to wonderfully capture a perfect blend of sweet and salty. Even better, the Bear Claw one-ups a Reese’s on the texture front with its melting chocolate, oozing caramel, and crisp pecans. A would-be OMG that transcends the boundary to ZOMG! because they’re so ridiculously reasonably priced.

The little rectangular thing in the top left corner, by the way, is a milk chocolate English toffee square (I think; Mrs. Cobb bought these for me, and the Georgia Nut website doesn’t have a picture). It’s a dusky milk chocolate coating a sweet, buttery, cleanly cleaving toffee that I’d give an OM because the finish is too sweet. I write this lest you think I’m only giving rave reviews to my gifted chocolates to appease my chocolate giver. But I do love Chicago. See?

As previously mentioned on Monday, my box of 9 of Vosges Exotic Truffles were samples sent by the company. I shared them with friends, which is the best way to savor fine chocolates. From left to right and top to bottom they are (the last two trio photos are slightly off, with the Ambrosia and Chef Pascal swapped):

Naga - sweet Indian curry powder + coconut + milk chocolate - I’ve had the Naga chocolate bar before and liked it, and I similarly enjoyed the curry dusted Naga truffle. The curry flavor is initially strong before it gets a bit mellowed by the coconut flavor coming through. The milk ganache balanced the two flavors well, and the truffle makes me think of Thai food.

Budapest - sweet Hungarian paprika + dark chocolate - Paprika isn’t really used in Chinese cooking, so I have no idea what its flavor profile is like. I found the Budapest to taste extremely, unpleasantly earthy. Even the more enjoyable dark chocolate finish wasn’t enough to make me like this truffle more. My friend Rita made a face and said it tasted like dirt, while my other friend Chris enjoyed it.

Gianduia - crunchy hazelnut praline + milk chocolate + praline bits - As I have said before, it’s hard to go wrong with the classic flavor combination of chocolate and hazelnut. The Gianduia’s hazelnut flavor was strong without being overpowering, and I found the nuttiness to be fresher and more genuine that anything Ferrero has ever made. The praline topping was also a nice, sweet, crunchy touch.

Black Pearl - ginger + wasabi + dark chocolate + black sesame seeds - When I tasted the bar version of the Black Pearl, I found its wasabi flavor to be absent. In the truffle, wasabi flavor is definitely there. It starts out tasting like ginger, and the wasabi rounds out the middle. I’m not a big fan of ginger and chocolate, but I can see why some people love it and how they would love this truffle.

Wink of the Rabbit - soft caramel + deep milk chocolate + organic New Mexican pecan - The top half of this interestingly named truffle is made of ganache, while the bottom half is made of a caramel that tastes like a soft toffee. I found it to be on the verge of sugar overload, and the organic New Mexican pecan (because pecan sourcing is soooo important, I guess) doesn’t add anything to the truffle or temper its sweetness.

Chef Pascal - kirsch + dark chocolate + dried Michigan cherry - This truffle has a strong liqueur flavor that I enjoyed. Eating this truffle is sort of like eating an uber fancy cherry cordial, except much better because the Vosges ganache is so rich and smooth and creamy.

Woolloomooloo - Australian macadamia nut + coconut + deep milk chocolate - The Woolloomooloo has a strong coconut flavor that tastes extremely and pleasantly fresh and a nice, dusky chocolate finish. I couldn’t taste the macadamia nut, but it was just fine without it.

Ambrosia - macadamia nuts + Cointreau + white chocolate - Like in the Woolloomooloo (man, is that fun to type!), the macadamia nuts are just too mildly flavored to stand out. The Cointreau (an orange liqueur) makes this truffle super sweet and fruity, and the white chocolate gives it a thickly sweet finish. I don’t particularly care for white chocolate, but I do appreciate the concept and flavor of this truffle.

Absinthe - Chinese star anise + fennel + pastis + dark chocolate + cocoa powder - I wasn’t expecting to like this truffle because I don’t like licorice or anise. I was right, sort of, as I didn’t like it, but I didn’t dislike it. The anise flavor is more reminiscent of Chinese five spice than of licorice. My licorice-loving suitemate enjoyed this.

I would not buy Vosges truffles for myself to eat because they’re so pricey, but I would buy them for others. The packaging is pretty, the truffles themselves are exquisitely gorgeous, the smooth and creamy ganaches are luxuriously indulgent, and the flavor combinations are unique and creative. An OMG, but only if someone else is buying.

According to their website, Lily O’Briens is one of Ireland’s top chocolatiers. From the two I tasted, a crispy heart and a sticky toffee, either Ireland has poor chocolatiers or Lily O’Briens is quite overrated.

Edit: Lily O’Briens believes that my chocolates were past their best-by date and have offered to send me fresh samples so I can give them a fair shake. I respect companies that stand behind their products, so I’ll re-review Lily O’Briens.

I actually picked this box up from an Italian coffeehouse/gelato place in the Venetian on the Las Vegas strip. The right is the sticky toffee, and the left is the crispy heart (duh).

The sticky toffee is toffee as the Europeans would describe it. In other words, it’s what we could consider a caramel. I found it to be grainy and gritty. The chocolate shell and its filling were overly sweet, and I had no urge to have more than my tasting bite. Not a good sign.

The crispy heart had bits of crisped rice that was a bright yellow. My initial notes describe it as a saffron yellow, but I now think it is yellow because it’s made of honeycomb. Either way, it’s not enough crispies to temper the sweetness of the chocolate shell. I liked the crispy heart better than the sticky toffee, as it reminded me of a Nestle Crunch bar, but I still found it cloying.

An O for the box. Granted, since I bought it from a coffeehouse and not a chocolate shop, and since it may have been imported, my box probably was not exactly fresh. But still, I wouldn’t recommend Lily O’Briens’ chocolates based on the ones I got to taste.

The Cadbury Picnic is a UK bar composed of milk chocolate with toffee, wafer, peanuts, sultanas, and a crispy cereal centre. You can tell it’s British not only from the spelling of centre but also from the “toffee,” which in British vernacular is actually what we would call caramel. That is, cooked sugar that is still sticky and viscous rather than solid and crunchy.

In case you’re wondering, like I was when I first read the wrapper, sultanas are basically raisins made with a specific grape. Not that it mattered much in the case of this bar. The chocolate that coated it was way too blandly sweet and overpowered all the “Picnic” treats. The toffee/caramel ribbon that sat under the wafers (or was that supposed to be the crispy cereal centre? hard to tell) could barely be tasted, and the peanuts that studded the bar were unroasted, a wasted flavor opportunity.

Overall, the bar was at least texturally interesting. It was a shame that so much went into this bar, so little actually managed to flavor it. A disappointing O.

Part II of many of my series of Russian candies courtesy of my friend Leslie. This week will be Russian candy week, but the series will extend beyond that.

Red October’s Iris Kis-Kis

On these Leslie writes, “My dictionary calls iris ‘taffy,’ but I’m not sure that’s quite accurate… Kis-Kis means ‘Here, Kitty Kitty.’”

I called these candies cat caramels in my notes, so Leslie has a point when she says they’re not quite taffy. They do have the texture of taffy, as it cleaves but is also sticky and chewy. In fact, the more you chew it, the stickier and chewier (and more stuck in your molars) it gets. It tastes like molasses, with dusky sugar flavors without any overt bitterness. An OM for this tasty treat that Leslie likes to buy at the open air market and eat on the way home.

RotFront’s “Slavyanskii Prostor” (Slavic Lands)

I’m guessing that RotFront in Russian doesn’t have the same meaning as it does in English. Apparently, no one Leslie knows could tell her what this is made out of, but they all love it.

It looks like a Tootsie Roll, but it’s completely different. Instead of being chewy, it’s grainy and breaks apart in the mouth. The flavor is pleasantly nutty and reminds of the Chinese crumbly peanut candy from my youth. Leslie thinks the nuttiness may come from sunflower seeds, but she’s not sure. I can’t figure it out either, but I still liked it. An OM.

Ryskie Optima

These are actually Polish, so Leslie doesn’t know what the name translation would be. The candy is basically just sesame seeds in a sugar glaze. It looks like it would be brittle but is actually chewy and did a fine job of sticking in my teeth. I enjoyed the toasted sesame flavor, which is quite strong, and gave it an OM. I think there’s a Chinese candy that’s similar to this.

I usually don’t finish the candy that I taste. Instead, I take a few bites and pass the rest on to friends, many of whom are happy to try my candy cast-offs even when my bite marks are on it. They’ll even polish off candy that I personally hated, so I almost never throw anything away. Note the “almost.” I found the Whitman’s Soho chocolates to be too terrible to inflict on my friends and tossed them after I tasted them. Individual, half-eaten chocolates aren’t that great for sharing in the first place, but I’ve done it before when the chocolates’ tastiness overrode the unappealing look of a chocolate with a bite missing. There was no redeeming the Soho line.

The “artist inspired” chocolates come in an attractive box, are prettily decorated, and have fancy sounding flavors: pear praline, sea salt caramel, madagascar vanilla brulee, pistachio nougat, cacao truffle, and raspberry ganache. Unfortunately, they all taste like blech.

The raspberry ganache, which I believe is the round dark chocolate one with the pretty gold swirls on top, had a creamy “ganache” that was way too sweet and tasted super artificial. I put ganache in quotation marks because the texture was that of a cream. I guess they called it a ganache because that sounds fancier.

The milk chocolate rectangle was pistachio nougat. It had absolutely no pistachio flavor, so I only managed to tell because it had little pieces of pistachio in it. A marvel of chocolate engineering. It just tasted generically sweet.

The milk chocolate square was the sea salt caramel, and the only one I managed to finish because it’s hard to make a terrible caramel. It is, however, easy to make a mediocre caramel, which was what this was: blandly sweet and chewy, with no saltiness, no butter or toffee notes, no anything.

I like my notes for the one with the white rounded top: “lemon - sharp acerbic lemon taste with horrific artificial aftertaste. Started out nice but EEK! Run away!” As you can see, there is no lemon flavored one, so I think it’s the pear praline.

The other flavor I was uncertain of was the dark chocolate rectangle. It was sweet and fruity with a slightly smoother, more flowy center than the others. I think it may be the Madagascar vanilla brulee. This one was okay, in that it was inoffensive.

And last but not least, the white, round chocolate with the flat top was the cacao truffle. Another inoffensively boring chocolate with a dry ganache and a slightly fruitiness to the filling that’s probably due to flavor mixing in the box.

I bought these for half off right after Valentine’s Day, and I still want a refund. I think we can extrapolate my notes from the pear praline and give the box a hearty EEK! Run away! They get an A+ for packing but an O (for offensive) for taste.

Hershey’s Whatchamacallit is a bar that I’ve seen on grocery store shelves all my life but had never bothered to pick up, probably because I had no idea what was in it. While candy bars like Twix and KitKats had a strong advertising push during my childhood, the Whatchamacallit was neglected.

The wrapper claims peanut flavor crisp, caramel, and rich chocolatey coating. The bar was texturally wonderful with a crisp, sharp crunch. The crunchy rice crisps that made up the center of the bar had a salty, super nutty peanut butter flavor, and there was just enough caramel in the form of a thin ribbon to add the sweetness needed to balance out that peanut butter taste. Because the coating was marked as “chocolatey”, it’s probably not real chocolate, but it was a super thin layer, so the fake mockolate (Cybele’s term) did not noticeably detract.

A definite OMG for this bar. I wish I’d discovered it earlier. The only downside is that the bar is extremely high in fat (especially saturated fat) and calories, so sadly, it’s not a chocolate bar to eat on a daily basis.

I saw a box of Michel Cluizel’s Champignon truffles at Cafe Moka in the Houston airport but didn’t buy them because they were so pricey. It was a choice I regretted. Thankfully, Viva Chocolato opened in Austin, and they carry lots of truffles by Michael Cluizel, including Les Champignons. Hooray! I bought one of the Champignons and a 99 Cacaoforte (the first and fourth in the lineup).

Les Champignons (French for The Mushrooms, by the way) are gorgeous and adorable. The cap is made of chocolate and filled with a crunchy toffee-like almond nougatine. It’s sweet and delicious. The stem is made of a soft, sticky, and super chewy caramel surrounded by white and dark chocolate. The caramel itself is not terribly sweet and instead tastes strongly of butter. They get an enthusiastic OMG, with a letter off for being so pricey.

I was nervous about trying the 99 Cacaoforte because they are made of 99% cacao. I’ve tasted a 100% cacao bar from La Maison du Chocolat (it was bitter, creamy, and good, but I could only handle a tiny bit at a time), and I’ve eaten raw cacao nibs before. Neither were entirely pleasant tasting adventures, so I was afraid the 99 Cacaoforte would be too much for my palate to handle.

The truffle was super dark, of course, but surprisingly enough, I didn’t find it bitter at all. It certainly wasn’t sweet, but it was far more palatable than the pure cacao I’ve tasted. The ganache was super smooth, thick, and almost paste-like. It had no grain, but it wasn’t exactly creamy, probably because there should be no milk or cream added to the ganache. It tasted of smooth, pure cacao, and it was splendid. I found it sophisticated, intense, and ZOMG!-worthy. Next time I come across one of these, I’m definitely splurging again, as it’s worth every penny.

Edit: According to Sera, I was misinformed about the nature of the Cacaoforte. The enrobing is 99% Cacao, but the filling is a ganache made with the 99%, meaning that there is cream in there.