Chocolate Fail.

(From left, Basil-Smoked Sea Salt Olive Oil; Ginger Baby; missing from photo: tequila and wine chocolates.)

My P.I.C. came over last week with a surprise for me: a box of truffles from Christopher Norman Chocolates. Her hubby works near there and gets his coffee there everyday, so when she recently when into the city for a visit, she brought me back some goodies. Yay!
There were four chocolates in the box: some sort of red wine/dark chocolate; ginger; tequila; and Basil-Smoked Sea Salt-Olive Oil. Ready? Okay, here we go. First off, she bought the tequila just to torment me. It's the one alcohol I cannot have. I can't smell it, definitely can't drink it, all due to one bad night in college. She insisted, however, that I would be able to handle this. Sadly, I must report that I couldn't. I had Mr. Goodbar take a nibble and then I smelled it. I couldn't do it. He said it was very good, so if you're a tequila aficionado, go for it! If, however, tequila causes you to hallucinate and give you the shakes, I'd say you might want to try something else. Like the wine chocolate. Now that was tasty. Very smooth dark ganache with a nice red wine kick. That was definitely more my speed.
The ginger was very tasty and very pretty.
And now, the last piece. Visually, it was lovely. And I dig basil and olive oil. But with chocolate? I had my doubts, but also tried to keep an open mind.
I bit off half and gave the other half to Mr. Goodbar. Usually I will love something and he'll hate it, and vice versa. This was one of the very few times we actually agreed on something. It was a serious fail.
I hate to say bad stuff about any chocolate, and especially artisan chocolate, because it's the result of someone's passion. But holy cannoli-- basil, olive oil and chocolate do not marry well. To be completely honest, I actually spit it out. Yes, I spit out a piece of chocolate. Why, why, why do confectioners feel the need to push the envelope all the time? This is a serious question. Bacon, chili powder, lavender ... do we really need to add these things to chocolate? Do they really enhance the already perfect taste of chocolate? Why must everything be over the top? I'm ready for the backlash against all this fancy-pants alchemy. Bring back the simple stuff. Pure chocolate. Basic flavorings like vanilla and caramel. Plain nuts, not curry-dusted or Dead Sea-salted. Am I being too naive? Am I showing myself to be a chocolate hillbilly? Perhaps, but I don't care. Save the basil for pesto with pasta. I want my chocolate straight up.

My Two Great Loves: Chocolate and Wine

I was out one day and came home to No-Nuts who said, "Someone was here. I don't know who she was but she left this."
"This" was a bottle of wine. But not just any wine. Chocolate wine! And "she" was Frau Marzipan. Apparently she saw this and thought of me, because, let's be honest here:

Madame Yum Yum=wine + chocolate.

I haven't tried it yet... I've been waiting for the right time. But I can tell you, that time is soon. Things have just been totally cuckoo bird around here. I'm so behind on not only this blog, but my work, my house cleaning, etc. My library books are due, I need to mail out tons of birthday cards, and I've committed to going to the gym at least three times a week. Not to mention the fact that I have a giant bag full of candy to try and a super-duper giveaway for you all. I promise, tomorrow is a new day!

Pillow-Soft Boozey Goodness

Waaaaay back when in 2008, I sampled some boozey-enhanced candies called Crown Nuggets Borrachitos. They came in two flavors: Cafe and-- I say whispering-- ((tequila)). They looked like this:
I just couldn't get myself to try the tequila ones back then and, to be perfectly honest, I still can't. As they say, once bitten, twice shy: one bad night with some cheap tequila will remain forever etched in my brain. I was able to try the Cafe ones, though, and I likened them to happy hour in a candy.
Fast forward to 2010, when I was asked if I'd like to try their new flavor Whiskey. I hesitated at first. Whiskey isn't my drink of choice, either, but at least I can say the word without gagging.
The first big change was obvious. The packaging is a hundred, thousand, million times better. The photo on the package shows some darn yummy looking candies and identifies them as "Creme & Liquor Filled Caramels." I noted before that they almost look like little pastries or cruellers. What I totally forgot about was the texture. It completely surprises me every time. Rather than a dense chew or a crumbly, almost doughy texture, these have a gelatinous feel to them, almost more marshmallowy than caramel. (The website refers to them as "pillow soft.") The alcohol-- up to 4%-- gives them a very definite kick. The whiskey ones taste just like the highballs* my parents used to make on Saturday nights. If whiskey is your poison, then these candies are your treats.
Mr. Goodbar loves these. I've watched as the package has slowly disappeared throughout the week. If you're the type who devours rum balls at Christmas, these are most certainly for you. They aren't really my thing, but I can say they're unique. If, however, they come out with a champagne-flavored version, watch out. Then it will be happy hour for me all the time. You can order these at www.crowncandies.com.

*It wasn't until just this very moment, when I looked up the definition of highball, that I realized that a highball is actually a generic name for a family of mixed drinks. According to everyone's favorite sketchy source Wikipedia, highballs are "composed of an alcoholic base spirit and a larger proportion of a non-alcoholic mixer." So technically, a gin and tonic or rum and Coke are also considered highballs. Huh. Who knew?

Candy Corn Cordials: The Perfect Pairing with Halloween Candy

My pal Marisa pretending that this is her first drink of the night

We did it! We actually made the Candy Corn Cordials after trick-or-treating. A couple of friends from the old chocolate store days came over and we reminisced about all the good times (stuffing fudge in the toilet, fighting over who got to wait on Nut Bark Man, watching the "new kid" shove cases of candy out the back door to his friends ...) while sipping our cordials.
I let the candy corn soak in vodka in the fridge for about five hours. The candy corn disintegrated, thus turning the vodka a lovely bright orange. I strained out the solids using a coffee filter, then added the Grand Marnier, lemon juice and egg whites. (I'd read a review that said the egg whites were essential for the frothy nature of the drink, but frankly they just grossed us out.) How did they taste? Actually really good, but nothing at all like candy corn. They tasted like an orange/lemon martini. I'm going to experiment with some ideas for Christmas. Chopped up candy canes seem like an obvious winner. Maybe, though, I'll try ribbon candy. Any other ideas?