Create Your Own Candy Bar! (Or just eat mine, like Mr. Goodbar did)

A while ago, I got to thinking about what my fantasy candy bar would be. If I had any smarts at all, I would've taken this idea one step further and started a create-your-own candy bar business. But I seem to be missing the synapses that take my ideas to finished products. A mental deficiency, probably caused from drinking coffee at age 5.
Enter Chocri, a German company that allows you to pick your chocolate (milk, dark or white) and select your toppings-- everything from nuts and dried fruits to spices and cereals. In January, they'll be offering this service in the U.S.; in the meantime, they've been inviting some bloggers and journalists to try out their goods. What fun! And such decisions to make.
Some things were easy for me to rule out, like rosemary, hemp seeds, flower mix and basil. I have no interest in mixing these things with my chocolate. Others, however, presented quite a challenge. Should I do a really nutty bar with almonds, cashews, pine nuts and pecans? Or maybe a "fun" candy bar with gummy bears, colorful chocolate lentils and mini sugar bananas? It was tough coming up with some final products, but here's what I went with.
Pictured from left: "I Wish I Was Somewhere Tropical" (dark chocolate with coconut flakes, banana chips, pineapple and sea salt); "Candy Yum Yum Fruit Crunch" (milk chocolate with raisins, cranberries, cinnamon cornflakes and roasted almonds); and "The Whole Shebang" (milk chocolate with pretzels, cornflakes, candy lentils, rice crispies and ground coffee beans). I probably should've ordered a white chocolate bar just to cover all the bases, but since I really don't prefer white, I passed on it. Now I wish I had ordered one, because I loved all of these.
They were actually sitting on the "candy shelf" for a while, because we had all the Halloween candy to slog through. So the other night, when I finally decided it was time to break into one of the bars, I went into a panic. The Whole Shebang was open and it appeared as if the label had been nibbled on. I ran downstairs to tell Mr. Goodbar the unfortunate news that we once again had mice in the house.
"Uh, no," he said. "That was me. I opened that."
Oh. Well, he sure did a job on the label.
The milk chocolate was smooth and creamy and the combination of the pretzel and cornflake crunch with the chocolately lentils was perfect. The ground coffee beans gave it a really delicious, complex flavor, although I think the coffee would've been better with simpler ingredients, maybe plain cashews or a dried fruit.
The Candy Yum Yum Fruit Crunch was reminiscent of a Cadbury Fruit and Nut bar, back when they were actually good. The sweet almonds and tart fruit played off each other and the cinnamon cornflakes gave it a fun twist.
I thought I was being clever by putting banana chips in the Tropical bar. Mr. Goodbar hates bananas and I thought they would keep him away. Wrong. This morning I saw that he broke into the bar last night. The dark chocolate is wonderfully balanced-- not too sweet, not too bitter or tannic. The sea salt goes wonderfully with the chocolate and the fruits give it a nice texture combination.
I'm being 100 percent honest in my review when I say I. Love. Chocri. I love the concept and I love the product. My one bone of contention is the label. Since you get to name your own bar, it would be fun to have a fancier, more professional looking label, but the package itself is great, since you get to see what the bar looks like.
Let's get down to business now. The company won't start selling in the U.S. until January, which is too bad, because they'd make great Christmas gifts. The bars start at $8 and the toppings range from 10 cents to over $2. It looks like an average bar would cost somewhere around $10. Pricey, yes. These aren't the type of bars you'd order for your everyday consumption. However, I think a gift certificate for one or two bars would be a fun present or grab bag gift.
The Chocri website in the U.S. isn't up yet, but you can visit their blog for a preview: www.createmychocolate.com/blog. Check it out. What do you think you'd create?
You can check out some of the other bars that bloggers have created at Candy Addict and The Chocolate Review.

The Great New York Candy Extravaganza, Part III

After leaving Economy Candy with our haul, we decided to check out the neighborhood and the interesting little shops. One place made me stop and look. It was called Mastihashop, and at first glance, it looked like a place that sold fancy little soaps and beauty products. But then something on the sign caught my eye; it said "candy."
Indeed, the shop did sell things like creams and soaps, but they also had a bunch of samples out of their food products, including chocolate and gum.
"Would you like to hear about Chios Mastiha?" the woman behind the counter asked.
Well, yes, I certainly would, because I had no idea what the heck this place was.
Turns out this was the "Official Shop of the Chios Masthia Growers Association," and all of the products contain, you guessed it, Chios Masthia, a "resinous crystal granule from the Pistacia lentiscus tree." It's more widely known as gum mastic.
Talk about a niche market.
The woman at the shop was very nice and offered us all sorts of different samples. I tried the original, straight-from-the-tree granules, which are sold as a natural gum. They tasted like chopped up wax lips.
In the end, I bought a small square of chocolate, a hunk of Turkish Delight and a Honey Pie with Almonds. The nice lady threw in a free box of Fama Fresh gum.
I haven't tried any of it yet, but I will certainly report back. I wouldn't want you to miss out on this most unusual ingredient. It's very strange to have a shop based entirely on one obscure ingredient, although I suppose it's not unlike some small shops in New England that only sell things made with maple syrup. In the meantime, if you want to check it out for yourself, visit www.mastihashopny.com.
Let me know what you think.

Le Whif: Le Whaaaat?

Okay, I'm actually kind of speechless about this goodie, brought to my attention by the ever-vigilant Frau Marzipan.
This, dear Yumsters, is "chocolate" that you inhale. Yes indeedy, that's what I said: inhale. Since I obviously haven't tried it (it's not yet out on the market in the U.S.), I'll let the company's website do the explaning. "Le Whif (http://www.lewhif.com/) is a revolutionary new way of eating chocolate - by breathing it! Imagine, chocolate without the calories. Be the first to try inhaled chocolate when Le Whif goes on sale later this month in four luscious flavors: mint chocolate, raspberry
chocolate, mango chocolate, and plain chocolate.
Harvard professor David Edwards, lead inventor of Le Whif, says: "Over the centuries we've been eating smaller and smaller quantities at shorter and shorter intervals. It seemed to us
that eating was tending toward breathing, so, with a mix of culinary art and aerosol science, we've helped move eating habits to their logical conclusion. We call it whiffing."

Well, I don't know what Professor Edwards has been smoking (or whiffing, as may be the case), but I can tell you one thing: I certainly haven't been eating smaller and smaller quantities of anything and my eating absolutely does not tend toward breathing. Inhaling, maybe.
In any case, I'll be interested to try a Le Whif, but I would bet my sweet tooth that it won't be the chocolate that really satisfies.

Real-Life "24"

A couple of weekends ago, I did the most amazing thing: I left my home for 24+ hours without husband or child. Yes, this was my first time away from the Sugar Baby overnight. Yes, I panicked-- for about one second. Then the thought of sleeping late and eating junk food overtook me and it was smooth sailing from that moment on. Here's how it all happened: my friend's husband called me and said, "I'd love to give Susan a break, but I know she doesn't want to go away with me. Could you get away for a night?"
Hell yeah, I could.
And so, overnight bags in hand, we checked into our fantastic room at the inn on the water and we dove right into our blissful, peaceful vacation which consisted mainly of lunch, dessert, champagne, taking turns in the jacuzzi tub reading Us Weekly, bad TV (something about Hugh Hefner and the playmates ... I don't know, I don't have cable), happy hour, Facebook, watching Weeds and more food. So here's where the chocolate comes in. After lunch, we decided to have gelato, only to find that the place with the huge "Gelato" sign only has it in summer. So we went in search of something sweet and came upon a funky place with not only gelato, but lovely cheeses, decadent cakes and an entire aisle of unusual chocolates.
It was a tough decision, but I finally decided upon a bar of bittersweet chocolate with crushed amaretti bits and an Anette's Chocolates "Winter Cabernet" chocolate truffle bar. I was so, so excited for the amaretti one. I really thought it was going to be awesome. Until I opened it a few days later and saw that it had bloomed. The chocolate had turned an icky grey. I tried a nibble, but nope, it was a goner. So very, very sad.
Then the cabernet bar. The funky trapezoid package says, "Our Winter Cabernet bar is a blend of fine Cabernet Sauvignon wine and a rich, dark, Belgian chocolate." Sounds fantastic, right? Well, it was fine. As in, I had a bite and thought, "Well, okay, nothing wrong with that." But at a whopping $3.29 for a 2.1 ounce bar, I expect to be wowed. I definitely wasn't wowed.
Of course, in the end, it didn't really matter, because the important thing was that I got to sleep until 9 a.m. and I took a bath AND a shower, just because I could.
(P.S. The Sugar Baby fared just fine. His pants were on backwards, but hey ... who am I to complain?)

Wild Times With French Chocolate

Part of the fun at Thanksgiving was getting to try all the fancy schmancy chocolates that Memaw brought back from Paris. Of course, it would've been a more memorable experience had I not been sauced the whole time. In any case, I do remember that these were my favorites of all the candies. Check it out: lumpy, bumpy fruits and nuts. The orange peel in these babies was soooo good. Fruity, tangy, sweet and sour. So good.

Then we tried these: the Valrhona tasting pack. Fortunately I took notes. The first one, Manjari, was tangy at the back of the tongue. Tainori, yummmm. Caraibe: the Baron said dark, earthy, like very black coffee. Leisl von Schokolat said it was like dirt or plastic. Mr. Goodbar said it was milky with an explosion of rich cocoa.

Guanaja: tannic

Alpaco: Mr. Goodbar said it was slightly metallic; No-Nuts said it was really good

Abinao: was very dry and sucked all the moisture out of my tongue.

My one complaint is that these squares were no where big enough for tasting, and as a professionally-trained taste tester, I should know.

So we ate the chocolate, then drank some more. No-Nuts taught us how to play beer soda pong, and then things got wacky. Hi-jinx ensued. And then this happened. Warning: you might want to shield your eyes. It's frightening, it's nauseating, and it might not be here for long once Mr. Goodbar gets wind of it. It's what happens when men mix beer and chocolate:

Oooh la la!

Some people like to complain about their in-laws, but not me. I've got nothing to gripe about, as evidenced by this: This is a package that Memaw brought me back from her trip to France. Not only did she hook me up with lots of French chocolates, but she carried this one very special box back on her lap, for crying out loud!
"Wait until you see these chocolates!" Memaw said. Yeah, yeah, I thought, pretty French bon bons, right? Whoa, was I blown away! First of all, I expected little petite confections, not chocolates as big as my fist. Second, they were the most sumptuous, decadent looking creations I've ever seen.

The picture does not do them justice. The first one we sampled was the one on the right that looks like a green eyeball. It was filled with gianduja. Then we tried the white one on the left. You can't see it, but it's all spiky crispy, again with gianduja. Last night I bit into the stick on the bottom and it was green inside. I believe it's marzipan, but it's very subtle tasting. Of course, I can't wait to dig into the bunch of grapes. I wonder what's inside? It's almost too pretty to eat. Hey, I said almost.

Hanging with The Connection: Totally Dope!

I saw The Connection this weekend and he had a few surprises up his sleeve for me. First off, an Israeli candy bar. You can't see in the horrid picture, but the wrapper shows a cow with a piece of chocolate and a fireworks-type explosion. Upon first glance, you'd think this was a piece of milk chocolate with bits of toffee in it. But then you put it in your mouth and-- taadaa! Fireworks! It's like it's filled with Pop Rocks. Suddenly these little glassy shards start popping in your mouth and in your head it sounds like sleet hitting a window. Good fun! The creepy part is that, even after you swallow the chocolate, the popping continues.

Next up, another horrid picture. But this is a gem, believe me. Here we have an excerpt from The Connection's travel journal, circa 1994. In it, he details every pound he spent on jams, boxers and tea at the Muffin Man. He also, however, rated the beers and chocolates he had, so without further ado, I give you The Connection's Pre-Blog Guide to British Sweets. (Note the ratings, from 1/2 star to three.)

Cadbury Caramel

**1/2: long sectioned bar, like Rolo, better smoother caramel, good chocolate

Nestle Lion

**: combination Kit Kat/Twix, lumpy ugly bar. If seen floating in a pool would cause a scare.

Terry's Bitz

***: very good chocolate with crunchy bits of mint crisp. Like eating the all-American mint Girl Scout cookie. Totally dope!

Nestle Secret

*1/2: Form over function, the Secret's out. This beautifully designed bar gets the chocolate engineer's award. Beautifully latticed wiring wrapped around chocolate mousse. Mousse like tough marshmallow. Disappointing.

Nestle Vice Versas

**: Oversize M&Ms thin dark shell over white chocolate and vice versa! White chocolate is great (from Switz.) but the Versa is the choc. It lacks.

Nestle Milky Bar

*: Small compact bar. Ok white choc. Basically it's mountain white.

Cadbury Timeout

1/2: They should call it quits and go to the showers. 2 bars like Twix with folded Flake chocolate between 2 wafers covered in chocolate. Almost no taste. Like eating cotton.

His last surprise will be unveiled soon. It'll be a treat for everyone!

You Must Pay the Rent

In addition to all the other German goodies, Frau Marzipan also gave me these:

Schoko-Bananen, or, roughly translated, Chocolate Bananas.

They're like a combination between marshmallow Peep-ish and almost gummyish foam. The banana is wickedly artificial (which is a good thing, for those of us who like artificial banana).

As you can see, they're not only tasty, but a good source of entertainment for the Baron, as well. I think they should replace the picture of Herr Alpine on the box with the Baron's handsome mug. What do you think?

Introducing Frau Marzipan

A couple of weeks ago there was a knock on my front door. It was my friend, fellow taste-tester, and loyal Yumster Frau Marzipan, bearing gifts of Germanic candy goodness. Huzzah!

She went to a little import shop and found these assorted goodies: Strawberry Yogurt Ritter, Prince Polo dark chocolate wafer, Kinder Chocolate, Yogurettes and those taffy-ish kind of things to the right (the name escapes me and my eyes are going so I can't read it.)

The Strawberry Yogurt Ritter was absolutely YUM as most Ritters are. (Except for the Roasted Almond one I bought a few weeks ago; what a disappointment). The yogurty part was tangy, just like a real yogurt.

The Prince Polo was really dark and crispy crunchy yummy.

Kinder Chocolates? Always a treat.

The Yogurettes weren't as good as the Ritter, but still tasty.

The other gem she gave me was this copy of "The Chocolate Bible" that she found at a tag sale. I haven't had a chance to really look at it yet, but when I flipped through it, it seemed really cool. An update awaits!

Who has the best friends?! Me!

Belgique Chocolate: Worth Its Weight in Gold?

A few weeks ago Mr. Goodbar and I were feeling particularly sassy and decided that it was high time to hit the road and go explorin' like we used to do, way, way back when before the Sugar Baby. The New York Times had a piece about a street festival in Kent, Connecticut and it sounded so charming and small-town New Englandy that we decided to go. Okay, here's where I 'fess up: I mostly wanted to go so I could go to Belgique and buy some chocolates. I wrote about this tiny little chocolate shop a few years ago and told y'all that it was quite simply the BEST chocolate ever. Ever.

Mr. Goodbar had splurged and bought me an entire pound of it while I was pregnant, but alas, my stomach would have none of it, so he got to eat the whole darn thing himself. So I figured I was owed.

What can I say? This stuff ain't cheap. At $65 a pound, it costs more than, oh I don't know, lobster, filet mignon, overpriced seaside vacation fudge, Summer of '08 gasoline ... you get my drift. So being recession-minded, we got just a few pieces.

For me: a vanilla buttercream in dark chocolate and a sea-salt caramel. For Mr. Goodbar: a cognac chocolate and a raspberry heart. For No-Nuts: a raspberry heart and a regular caramel.

The woman handed us the bag (at these prices, even a single piece should be put in a box) and warned us that their chocolates are made with fresh cream so they MUST BE KEPT COOL. Yeah, okay, not a challenge on a sweltering summer day. So we drove for two hours holding the king's ransom in front of the air conditioner.

I can hear you already: "So ... how were they?!"

Well, here's the deal. I'd had the vanilla buttercream before and it's truly decadent. She wasn't kidding when she says fresh cream. It's like a chocolate shell filled with vanilla whipped cream. Lovely, light, flavorful-- a true treasure.

The rest? They were good. Very good. But $3 a piece good? Eh, not so much. Mr. Goodbar loved his selections and still contends that they're the best chocolates ever. No-Nuts was completely unimpressed. She said the raspberry was too thick. I will stick with my original declaration and say these are damn good chocolates. The problem arises when you compare them to say, a $2 bar of Ritter Cornflakes. Then you have some deciding to do: little piece of really, really good chocolate or big bar of really, really good chocolate?

(By the way, the street festival sucked.)

Ritter Sport Cornflakes

RESTRAINING ORDER

Dear Ritter Sport,
Candy Yum Yum has asked that you cease and desist any and all contact with Madame Yum Yum. Please do not make yourself known to her in the supermarket or at Target or anywhere else. She acknowledges her willing participation in your past relationships, but cannot continue with you anymore. This includes all varieties of Ritter Sport, but particularly the crispy-crunchy-chocolatey-super-yummy-best-candy-bar-she's-had-in-a-long-time Cornflakes version. Please respect her boundaries.
Sincerely,
The American (Chocolate) Bar Association

(Editor's note: this is just to say that the Ritter Sport Cornflakes bar is so yummy delishus that you should go out right now and buy one. They're on sale at Target this week: 2 for $5. Worth every penny.)

Help me out folks!

There's this really funky town nearby where there are cute little stores, upscale restaurants and groovy coffee shops all along the main road. For as long as I can remember, there's been a store there called "A Taste of Holland" or something like that, and they always had wooden shoes and knick knacks in the window. I never went in and never would've thought to if Alexandra and Sue (MKAFGGF) hadn't alerted me to their candy selection. A few weeks ago, I finally went in and whoa! What a Dutch candy paradise! All along the wall were wooden bins filled with different candies. Of course, there were tons of that gnarly Dutch licorice, but there were also gummies and hard candies and chocolates. I bought a cellophane cone filled with a colorful gum drop and nonpareil mixture that I thought would be great to do paintings of. (A picture is forthcoming; please stand by as I'm having camera difficulties.) They also had Stroop Waffels! I bought a package of mini ones called Stroopies. I have yet to inform the von Schokolats that I have these in my possession.

I also got a roll of Rang! candy. These are hard, circular candies in assorted fruit flavors. They're very tasty but what I really love about them is that each is individually wrapped in wax paper. This instantly brought back memories of some kind of hard candy I ate as a kid that had the same kind of wax wrapping, but I just can't place it. I'm thinking it might be Tootsie Pop Drops, but I'm not sure? Can you help me out?

It's a wrap

It's time to wrap up the great Euro Candy Exposition '07.

• One of my favorites of the whole lot of goodies was a Ritter Sport Quadrago Erdbeer-Joghurt. (A bite-sized chocolate bar filled with a strawberry yogurt filling.) It was a nice balance of sweet chocolate and tangy/sour strawberry yogurt. MMMM!




• Perhaps the most disturbing "candy" was the licorice sticks from Holland. These were actual pieces of licorice root--they look like any old twig you'd find on a tree-- except you chew them to get to the licoricey center. They're waaaay strong and it's just a little freaky to be gnawing on a stick.




• I really, really liked the wee little bar of Hussel Edelbitter. The chocolate was yummy and the bar was the perfect size to satisfy a craving without going overboard. It's the Fun Size for the Euro crowd.

Lastly, I shall leave you with this picture of the Baron enjoying a perfect day reading a book and eating salted licorice fish from a pile on his belly. As the day went on, his shirt crept higher and higher until the Baronness walked over and pulled it back down. When she did, there was a surprise! A lone salted fish was hiding there, waiting to be savored.

Two great tastes that don't taste great together

When I was pregnant, the only thing I could keep down was grapefruit. I think I kept the entire Florida citrus council in business that year. So the Baron thought of me when he came across this: Feodora Fio! Grapefruit-Joghurt Chocolade ("Milk and Superior Chocolate with Grapefruit Yogurt Filling.")

It's not everyday when you see a grapefruit-flavored candy, let alone one with chocolate, so it's difficult to know what to expect. Despite the fact that I love grapefruit and I love chocolate, I've decided the two aren't really meant to be put together. The chocolate was creamy and slightly bitter, and the grapefruit filling tasted just like the fruit: sour, bitter and tangy. Not something I'd try again. The Baron also picked up a pear version which we all found to be really gross. I guess there's a reason you don't see some fruits paired up with chocolate.

Has anyone seen my insulin?

I'm finally starting to come down off the sugar-high I've been experiencing for the past four days. The von Schokolats arrived on Thursday and true to their word, had a gianormous bag full of German candy for me. I mean, the thing must've weighed ten pounds. I've never had that much candy in the house at one time. I have so much to write about (including our grand New York chocolate adventure) but I can't seem to concentrate on anything right now. My blood sugar is dipping and I'm ready to go to bed for the night, even though it's only 6 p.m. But stay tuned for fabulous tales of salted licorice, chocolate sandwiches, the world's most sour gum and more! (And here's a picture of the Baron dipping into a fabulous Haribo mix. Details to come!)

Notes from the field: Five a Day

Brother-in-law et al arrived safely in Germany. Mark (who from here on out shall be referred to as Baron von Schokolat) only managed to lose two passports in the process. Way to go! Anyhow, once the passports were retrieved, the von Schokolats hit the pavement looking for chocolatey goodness. Here's what he has to report:



Thought you might like to know this. In Europe, you can get your daily fruit intake and still have chocolate. We went into Hussels Candy Store in Bonn and had our daily fruit intake. It just happened to be hand-dipped in milk chocolate. We all tried them. Mixed opinions, but let's just say the group agreeded [sic] that chocolate improved the taste.



Apparently they had mango, banana, orange, apricot and melon. Mmmm. Sounds so yummy.



In other candy news, I had the second half of the Kinder Bueno last night that Betsy brought back from Paris. It was all melty because it's a zillion degrees out. So good. So, so good.



Also, a Candy Yum Yum! reader wrote me with this tidbit:

I just saw your brownie post, and thought I would send you along a concept my mother introduced me to. She takes a boxed brownie mix, prepares it, spoons half the batter in the pan, the covers the top in candy, usually quartered out -- 1 quarter with Andes candies, one with chopped up peanut butter cups, one with Skor/Heath bar bits, and the last with chopped up Mounds minis. Or some other assortment of candies. Then you cover everything with the rest of the batter. These are a big hit at work, especially if they think they are just getting a normal brownie.

Whoa! Does that sound yummy or what?! I love the idea of melted Andes in a fudgey brownie. And I love that the candy is hidden-- so fun! Thanks for sharing. Now I'm going to be craving these until I make them!