Usually I try to stray from personal pieces in my writing, unless it’s an article about Fleshlights and I assume you’d all be interested in knowing what my wang is up to. But this one, I feel, is an important educational piece, a public service, if you will, that explores a dark, terrible secret in society. Chocolate, friends, is not a toy. You can’t play with it just because it’s a food and you think you live in a free country. There are rules. Rules that need to be respected. Like you wouldn’t pee in your own face (don’t do that, if you currently do it), you should not pee in the chocolate and call it gourmet.
This past weekend I went to a fancy market where people buy things like organic quinoa and artisanal cheeses and, aside from feeling very uncomfortable, I happened upon a chocolatier. It’s a real word and everything. And I thought that someone who dedicated their life to candy would be a Willy Wonka-level genius and bring joy to my life. The exact opposite thing to that thing is what happened. His chocolate was as foul as unwashed anus and I will now break down exactly why, flavor by flavor.
Lavender is not a food. This should pretty much end the entry but I guess the world needs a bit more education on the matter because this stuff is out there and spreading. Lavender is best used in soap and your grandma’s favorite lotion that she rubs on her wrinkled, old thighs at night. Do you want that in your mouth? Well someone must because they’re putting it in chocolate.
Unsurprisingly, lavender in chocolate tastes like soap in chocolate. It’s as appealing as soap in chocolate. See how that works? It literally has no upside to it at all. I ate a lavender truffle and scowled at the filthy chocolatier who gave it to me while he tried to make like he wasn’t responsible and suggested another flavor.
Apparently there’s a long tradition down Mexico way and the like of mixing some hot chili and chocolate together to make all manner of spicy, chocolatey treats. And maybe people like that but this literally just tasted like chocolate that burned me and nothing else. If your chocolate is going to burn its way out of my asshole, I don’t see the need to eat it, but maybe that’s just me.
I can’t even imagine what was happening when someone thought of this. Do you know what sage tastes like? It’s a spice you use with poultry. You put it in stuffing for a turkey. It’s the chief ingredient in any prepackaged poultry spice. It goes with chocolate the same way making out with a hobo goes with romance. It tastes like someone made chocolate dirty and then jammed it into a turkey. Why would you ever do that? Why, chocolatier, why?
This is not entirely different from the chili chocolate except curry has a distinct flavor that you can’t really miss whereas the chili chocolate was just hot. This has an Earthy, punch you in the face flavor that says “Hey kid, do you like chocolate? Let me ruin your psyche with this detestable blend of flavors.” Curry is awesome with chicken, or even goat. Thai curry is magnificent. Chocolate curry is shit on a shingle.
This is a theme I started to notice with this chocolate vendor, anything that should and doesn’t blend with chocolate, he mixed with chocolate. Now peppercorns are kind of spicy and I’m not a big fan of them usually, just because they’re too damn big and make food seem like it has gravel in it It’s not the heat that’s an issue, I love sriracha as much as the next guy, but the texture was just grossly uncalled for. Have you ever sat down and thought you wanted a nice, rich milk chocolate, but only if someone had put nut shells in it? Just sharp, chunky shell bits that were also spicy? Because that’s what this shit was.
Green tea chocolate
I’m not a big fan of green tea usually, it’s OK but meh, it’s not super great either. There’s a weird aftertaste, I find, and it makes me feel like I was sucking on some kind of a tree root or something. So why did I think it would be better if melded with chocolate? I don’t know. By this time I was desperate to forget about the other flavors but the green tea was the only unusual one he had left and I was committed to this dumb article idea.
The flavor could best be described as an accident. There’s definite green tea something in there, but when not served as a liquid it’s just eerie. Plus the mix of dark chocolate makes it vaguely medicinal and vaguely butt.
For those interested, I followed these foul brews up with what I thought would be a sure thing and had a lemon chocolate that tasted like furniture polish. I had to conclude this particular chocolatier was just a hateful man who didn’t want anyone to be happy and went and bought myself a Slurpee.