A few days ago, my parents returned from a little European vacation. The only thing I asked that they bring me (other than some nice, smoky Spanish paprika) was a little turron or torrone, delicious soft honey nougat studded with nuts, from Spain and Italy, respectively (the two countries on their itinerary). Nougat, as opposed to all the excellent chocolate to which they would have access, travels well – the perfect gift for their candy-loving daughter. I figured I would let them off the hook, not wanting to burden them with the impracticality of toting chocolate through summer temperatures.

Plus, as much as I adore chocolate, I am a huge fan of all manner of nougat, although perhaps not quite as advanced in my affection as Cybele over at Candy Blog. But I am close on her heels.

Well, I never did get that torrone. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised with a box containing (several) of these two little nuggets that I’d never before seen:

Croccantino del Provenzale

Delicatezze del Provenzale - Limone.

Packaged exquisitely in beautiful paper, (as are even the most basic items in Italy – even an address book or a wedge of pecorino cheese is wrapped like a pretty present by the shopkeeper), each small bar is about two and a half inches long and one inch wide.

The Croccantino del Provenzale is dark chocolate encasing a layer of hard, honey-based toffee studded with hazelnuts and almonds. The chocolate is good quality, and the inner layer no stiffer than, say, the inside of an Almond Roca; in other words, it won’t yank on your fillings, as would a Sugar Daddy, for example. The honey flavor really comes across, and the nuts are pleasantly toasted, imparting a robust, full-flavor. I really enjoyed these – and, in fact, still am.

The Delicatezze del Provenzal – Limone is also enrobed in dark chocolate, but the interior of this one is more similar to the texture of a cookie. Well, not quite a cookie, but…what? Oh, it just came to me…this reminds me of those little pink and white frosted circus cookies with sprinkles, only less waxy. The Delicatezze also contains almonds and hazelnuts, in addition to a bit of white chocolate – heresy! I’m certainly no fan of white chocolate (in fact, I hold it in utter contempt), but the application of it in this particular candy is not really as “chocolate” (the dark chocolate has that role covered) so much as a binder for the nuts. I am actually tolerating, even (gasp!) enjoying the white chocolate here, as it seems to pair well with the natural lemon zest, milk and vanilla also included in the ingredients.

So, not only did I get my dark chocolate (completely unmelted, I might), but also I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of two new Italian confections, ones that have surely entered the fold as “keepers”. These are worth seeking out in your travels, and if you can bear to part with them, make a lovely, lovely gift.

Grazie, mom and dad!

(Note to my brother Rick: If you’re reading this, don’t worry, they picked up a box for you, too. You’ll get ‘em on your next visit – along with some pretty good dark chocolate and paprika from Spain. And also some cute little salt and peppershakers and some cool stuff from El Prado.)

2nd photo courtesy of laprovenzale.it

Just about the same time he unearthed the Bing, I spotted something called a Cherry Cocktail at, oddly, a Caribbean grocery store down the street from my house. Although it is made by the relatively local Owyhee (of Idaho Spud fame), I had never seen this bar. Naturally, I bought it.

And, knowing that we had imminent plans for a head to head tasting between the two, I decided that I’d throw in a third contender – something that has caught my eye over the past few years in the candy aisle at Fred Meyer (major Portland grocery/one-stop shopping chain). This one is called Christopher’s Big Cherry.

Why I had never before purchased Big Cherry, it should be noted, is because, well… I sort of hate cherry-flavored candy… a significant detail, I suppose. But it should also be noted that the only reason I’d paid any attention to it in the first place is that the wrapper is so freakin’ adorable. Precious, right? Sometimes cuteness can be sufficient cause to buy a particular candy bar. I’ve been guilty of this on more than one occasion.

So, in the name of research, the two of us met up for coffee and a mini cherry candy bar round-up. I say “mini” not because the candy bars are small, but because the round-up included only 3 bars. I realize there are a few other cherry-focused candy bars floating around (Brown and Haley’s Cherry Mountain Bar, for one), to be included in Cherry Round-Up 2.1.

Surprisingly, the three products are remarkably similar.

1. Palmer’s Twin Bing (top right). This one stands out from the others in 2 major ways. First, it is a two-piece bar (hence the “Twin” billing). Second, it does not contain a whole Bing cherry within the (barely) chocolate and crushed peanut coating. Made by Palmer’s (of hollow Easter Bunny fame), to press the point of the inferior quality of chocolate is probably unnecessary and redundant. The reason this bar has been in production since 1923, I’m guessing, is due to the the pleasing cherry nougat center (if you like cherry nougat, that is) of the company’s flagship candy bar. The mounds are flatter and less mountainous than the other two, as can be seen in the photo above. I’m happy to have had the chance to finally taste it, but if I never have another before I die, I won’t be losing any sleep over it.

Price ? at Buzz on Broadway, Seaside, Oregon.

2. Owyhee Cherry Cocktail (top left) This one, as promised on the wrapper, contains an actual whole Bing cherry inside the peanut and chocolate coating. The cherry nougat is stickier and more runny than the other two, but otherwise it is quite similar to #3, the Big Cherry. As previously mentioned, this is made by the people who brought us the Idaho Spud, and has been in production since 1901. 1901…this is older than WW1! George Burns was five years old when these candy bars were first made. Take a moment to appreciate the longevity of The Cherry Cocktail, my friends, for it is truly remarkable.

99¢ at Caribbean market on 16th and NE Killingsworth St, Portland.

3. Christopher’s Big Cherry (foreground). Although I did just tell you that this is almost just like the Cherry Cocktail, the wildcard Big Cherry was our decided favorite. The chocolate seemed chocolatier, the peanuts saltier and peanuttier, and the cherry nougat sweeter and more flavorful. If this is annoyingly vague description, I apologize, but I cannot articulate it any better than that. The now defunct Christopher Candy Company of Los Angeles was recently sold; the bars are now being manufactured by Adams & Brooks (makers of P-Nuttles and Coffee Rios).

69¢ at Fred Meyer: Portland.

Apparently, overly sweet cherry filling coated with milk chocolate and chopped peanuts is some sort of American candy classic that seems to have proven itself simply by withstanding the test of time. And even though, as I said, I’m not in the cherry candy fan club, these three relics (The Big Cherry in particular) fall into the category of “oddly compelling”. In sum: no regrets.

Amano is one of less than 20 chocolate makers in the United States actually making their own chocolate. This is to say that they begin with raw beans, roast and grind them, and then create small-batch, high quality chocolate bars. Hence the he name “Amano,” which translates to “by hand.” Chocolate savant David Lebovitz spells out the difference between “Chocolate Maker” and “Chocolatier” quite succinctly, for your (and my) edification.

Some company history: With a background in science and technology, chocolate maker Art Pollard began experimenting in 1998 with tools and equipment he designed and crafted. Developing his technique over a several-year period, the chocolate bars were made available to the general public in 2006. Pollard located the factory in Orem, Utah based on the town’s dry climate and high altitude, an optimal chocolate-making environment.

Pollard sources his cocoa beans directly from the growers, choosing only “perfect specimens” that meet the company’s standards. Notably and exceptionally, he pays the growers up to four times the market price, exceeding “fair trade” guidelines. With these prized beans, Pollard produces the chocolate slowly and in small batches. Take a look at their website for extensive and interesting company history, philosophy, product information, and more.

Amano’s product line consists of two different varieties, Madagascar and Ocumare, as well as a limited edition Cuyagua, all of them 70% cacao minimum, of single origin beans, weighing in at 2 oz each.

Several chocolate scholars have provided detailed reviews of the Amano bars; including Lebovitz, Emily Stone of Chocolate in Context and Cybele of Candy Blog. I will not begin to attempt to match their illuminating and academic reviews, so instead I offer you my Amano Cliff’s Notes:

Madagascar Premium Dark Chocolate:
An intense chocolate hit with a tangy and sharp mid-palate flavor - somewhat yogurt-like, to be honest. The finish is smooth and no bitterness is left during the aftertaste. Even though yogurt is one of my least favorite foods, I enjoyed this chocolate bar.

Ocumare Grand Cru Dark Chocolate:
The initial and mid-palate flavor is smoky, with a smooth finish. The company describes this bar as having “rich chocolate overtones balanced by fruity components that include hints of plums and other red fruit.” I attempted to taste these components, but instead experienced something more along the lines of “the smell of a smoke shop,” in a good way. If that sounds unappealing, it’s not. I really like this one.  The beans are from the central coast of Venezuela in a remote valley called Ocumare De La Costa.

Cuyagua Premium Dark Chocolate – Limited Edition
This tastes very similar to the Ocumare, but perhaps a little less with the smoky hit. The initial intensity subsides into an almost milk chocolate aftertaste. The beans are from The Cuyagua Valley at the base of cloud forest covered coastal mountains in Venezuela.

All three bars are remarkably smooth and full-bodied, with exceptional mouth-feel. I’ve eaten plenty of similarly-priced bars that do not warrant the elevated cost. These, without question, are worth the splurge.

Photos courtesy of amanochocolate.com

I have long maintained that ice cream knows no season. Alicia, in her recent review of Ben and Jerry’s new items, agrees. If you can drink an ice-cold soda or beer year-round, why should ice cream be relegated to the sunnier months? (Alleged) Fact: Portland, Oregon leads the country in ice cream consumption per-capita. Fact: It is very rainy and grey in Portland for much of the year and also sunny and mild for (not quite as) much of the year. Conclusion: ice cream is delicious any day of the week, any month of the year.

However, I do realize that springtime is when most people veer their focus towards this sweet, frozen confection. With that said, let me tell you about a new one that caught my eye at the market just the other day:

The Greek Gods Baklava Pagoto

Pagoto, FYI, means ice cream in Greek. And baklava, as I’m guessing most of you know, means layers of delicious, buttery, honey-sweet, flakey nuttiness.

I suppose what I was expecting was a vanilla or honey-vanilla ice cream studded with chunks of actual baklava, in the spirit of a brownie or cookie-laced ice cream. Instead, this is an ice cream seasoned and flavored in the spirit of baklava, without containing any actual bits of the pastry. I’m not saying that this is a bad thing; only that it was, well…unexpected. Specifically, according to the company’s website, it is a:
“Honey-cream base with a mixture of walnuts, almonds and cinnamon, to recreate the flavors found in Greek baklava.”

In other words, there is not a trace of phyllo dough in the mix.  The ice cream features, rather, a re-creation of baklavian flavors.

I picked-up a pint on a recent evening when I was hosting a small, impromptu cocktail party at my house. Luckily (and probably not coincidentally) my buddies love sugar almost as much as I do;  all were more than game for a blind taste-test. I wanted to see if anyone could identify the ice cream as being specifically “baklava-flavored”, and, as I suspected, they could not. As the towel-wrapped pint passed hands, guesses ranged from apple pie and pumpkin pie to tiramisu. By the time the container was empty, not onehem of t was able to put their finger on the flavor.  But, let it be noted, the pint was, indeed, quickly emptied. My guests tasted and re-tasted…and although the ice cream’s identity remained elusive, each bite was consumed with gusto.

In sum, this is some good, creamy, high-quality and delicious stuff.

Other all-natural, preservative-free pagoto flavors offered by Greek Gods include Chocolate Fig and Honey Pomegranate. Drop me a comment if you’ve tried either of these and let me know what you thought.

Apx. $3.99/pint. Check store locator to track down a pint near you.

I’m not really sure how this all happened (I swear, my mom was around somewhere, and she’d be so ashamed if she were reading this… she really was/is a wonderful and attentive mother), but we boldly helped ourselves to the relish jar pennies and surreptitiously snuck pre-school tushies out the front door, up a moderately steep hill, and then about a half-mile up a fairly busy road to the drugstore.

What stands out in my mind from this particular “pull,” in retrospect, the very first independent purchase (candy or otherwise) of my life, is:

1. Tootsie Rolls
2. Bubs Daddies (sticks of delicious apple-flavored gum)
3. Smarties

Smarties, then, were the first thing I ever bought. Ever.

That’s pretty cool. Cool that I know what the first thing I ever bought was, and cool that it was Smarties. I knew what I was doing.

Another cool thing is that Smarties have stayed exactly the same as long as I’ve been eating them. Pretty much, anyway. The packaging seems unchanged, and popping one of the powdery little vaguely fruit-flavored tablets in my mouth, it might as well be 1974 again. I appreciate a candy that doesn’t feel the need to “update,” but certainly don’t begrudge it when it tries to step out and try something new. Smarties, by the way, have been in production since the early 1950’s, by Ce De Candy, Inc. of New Jersey.

Which is why I was more than happy to check out the new (at least to me) “Tropical Flavors” Smarties. After such a lead-up, I feel a little guilty that I don’t have much to tell you about the island-style sugar tablets. The only (slight) difference is that they are less tart than traditional Smarties, something I only noticed once it was pointed out to me by a fellow taster. We were unable to identify any of the “tropical” tastes that I had imagined would be captured: coconut, pineapple, guava, mango (okay, maybe that last one was an unrealistic expectation). Basically, they taste like sweet, powdery sugar tablets that dissolve gently on your tongue after the initial bite.

In sum, I wouldn’t go too far out of you way to track these down, simply because they are not different enough from the original to warrant any sort of candy-seeking sweat on your part. But if you happen to come across a pack, check ‘em out and judge for yourself. It’s a small investment: $1 for a 7 oz bag containing 27 candy rolls. (Dollar Tree, Portland).

Oh, I forgot to tell you the end of the runaway candy-heist story. When we got home from the store, my mom was, naturally, completely hysterical and crying. She sent us to our room (which the two of us shared) and then laid us out with one of the only spankings of our lives. Seriously, I remember being spanked maybe 4 other times after that. But because she was so happy that we were safe and alive, she came back into our room after about 15 minutes (could’ve been 5 minutes or an hour, I was 3; it’s a little hazy) and hugged and kissed us and apologized for hurting our bottoms, but we still had to stay in our room for a little while longer. This last part, however, is not hazy: our neighbor and conspirator, Jimmy, somehow ended up with our bag of loot and proceeded to stand outside on our front lawn, taunting us with the goods. He was the 6th of 8 kids in a big ol’ Mormon family, who, apparently, hadn’t taken note of his little “mission.” We never got our candy back. Jerk.

Check out the website for more information, company history, and excellent merch, including a Smarties beer koozie. Sweet… and smart.
 

This handsome nugget, in addition to a similar Mint Sandwich Cookie, is featured as a Christmas item on the Emily’s Chocolates website, smartly packaged in a sturdy and festive snowman-adorned tub. But a peanut butter sandwich cookie, if you ask me, defies seasonal pigeonholing. And luckily, when I received them in the mail just last week, they did not taste as though they’d been sitting around since November.

I’ve enjoyed the various Emily’s chocolate-covered nuts and berries that I’ve tasted since first spotting the delicious dark chocolate-covered cranberries at Target over a year ago. Like I said, they get a gold-star on package design, elevating them to host/hostess gift status. I appreciate the representation of the dark chocolate, giving it equal play amongst the milk chocolate selections. Look here for previous Sugar Savvy reviews on other Emily’s products, and here for other items available from the company.

Okay, back to the Peanut Butter Sandwich Cookie: I will say that this might be the fanciest store-bought sandwich cookie I’ve ever eaten. It is a dressed-up hybrid of an Oreo and a Nutter Butter come to think of it: a layer of peanut butter cream rests between two thick chocolate wafers, and the entire affair is then enrobed in a 1/4-inch layer of of rich and good-qualitiy dark chocolate. Each cookie is individually wrapped in heavy-duty plastic, which would ordinarily seem excessive from a natural resources standpoint. In this case, however, I would say that the extra packaging is warranted. Not only does the plastic protect the integrity of the cookie and prevent melting and sticking together, but it also reduces over-indulgence and the stuffing-of-the-cookie-in-the-cakehole with mindless non-intent (you know who you are). In other words, it is the sophisticated city cousin to the Oreo; if an Oreo or a Nutter Butter is a bag of Cheetos, Emily’s PB Sandwich Cookies are parmesan poppyseed straws. Or something like that. No disregard to the Oreo or the Nutter Butter, of course.

My two thoughts for improvement on this cookie:
1) The peanut butter could be saltier. Much saltier.
2) Is hydrogenated fat necessary where non-refrigerated peanut butter is concerned? What about high fructose corn syrup? Why use these? Seriously – if there’s a reason, I want to know. There are way too many other good cookies out there that contain neither of these unwelcome and very unhealthy preservatives.

Other than that, I think these are certainly above average as far as store-bought cookies are concerned – and, for that matter, many bakery and homemade cookies taking up space in the world.

$7.69 for a 10 oz tub containing 10 individually-wrapped cookies.
Can be purchased on the company’s website and various retail outlets.

Top photo courtesy of emilyschocolates.com

Bottom photo courtesy of amazon.com

Again with the Das Caramelini … they keep sending and we keep reviewing (and chewing).  (Enter “das” in the search field our our site here to see 6 previous reviews of Das salted caramels in a variety of flavors.)

To avoid redundancy, I will simply say that the remarks and opinions put forth with regard to the other Das flavors also apply to this version. Subtle, nice texture and flavor, and perfectly sized. The use of locally-sourced, high quality cream and butter is not in vain - they are indeed noticeable and appreciated.  In the case of this flavor, however, I’m not sure that orange would be my first choice to match with the rich, unctuousness of salted caramel. It was enjoyable enough, but there are other flavor additions that lend themselves more successfully to caramel: ginger, for one. The orange and honey seem to compete with, rather than compliment, the caramel. Again, I would not spit it out, but I probably wouldn’t choose the Orange and Honey among the brand’s other offerings.

The box proudly states that these are “deliciously soft.”  I must point out, however, that not only are they not soft, they are probably the most un-soft caramel I have ever eaten (including Brach’s and Kraft). This is a very stiff caramel. I mean this not as a criticism of the candy, because I rather enjoy a firm and chewy caramel.  I also enjoy a soft caramel; they can happily co-exist in the greater caramel community, as far as I am concerned. As I stated in my review of the Ginger and Pistachio caramel, it is currently mid-winter. Perhaps these are deliciously soft in mid-summer - but while my house is warm and toasty, these caramels remain pretty darn rigid.  

Das, baby, don’t sweat it. If you’re a chewy and dense caramel, that is totally cool by me.  I will still love you.  Pecorino Romano is a very hard cheese; Brie de Meaux, quite soft.  They are both lovely cheeses.  Pecorino, however, never claims to be “soft.”  Because it is not soft; it is a wonderful and hard cheese.

Look, all I’m saying is that there’s no need to front, Das.   Embrace your chewy firmness.  I have.

Photos courtesy of amazon.com and thenibble.com.

Over the course of my life, I have taken in no small amount of toffee – of the butternut crunch genre.  From Almond Roca to Lula’s, to See’s -  I rarely miss an opportunity to sample an English, California, or whatever they want to name it, nut and butter based toffee, coated with chocolate and then more nuts.

I’ve liked it cheap (Heath and Skor Bars); I adore it chi-chi (Valerie Confections, Cary’s).  I have loved homemade versions; beginning with a toffee “assignment” handed down by my 8th grade “Holiday Baking” Home-Ec teacher, right up to a particularly phenomenal bag from a farmers’ market in Seattle that I recently received as gift. Sometimes English toffee is great, sometimes it is addictive and transcendent.  But even at its most base and crude level, it is pretty great stuff.  Let’s just say I’ve never spit out a piece of toffee.

Having said all that, Enstrom’s Dark Chocolate Almond Toffee might be the best I’ve ever met.  It is, at least, in the top three (along with that stuff from the Farmers’ Market  - that was also really exceptional. It’s called Pete’s Perfect Toffee  - but has no website that I can find. I think it might only be available at The Ballard Farmers’ Market.)

The sample of Enstrom’s that I received was one of the “toffee petites,” with which I certainly have no gripes.  However, if you are inclined to purchase this product, I recommend the box of toffee instead. The box holds massive, charmingly irregular slabs, which may initially appear foreboding and slate-like. Instead, they yield to the tooth and crumble tenderly upon first bite, releasing the full-bodied buttery sweetness and rich toasted almond flavor.  The chocolate coating is almost superfluous, but in a good way.  Don’t get me wrong, I welcome the dark Guittard chocolate, thick, smooth and even slightly smokey. But I wouldn’t send it away if this toffee showed up at the table covered in milk chocolate, or even unenrobed and naked. In fact, I have happily consumed the milk chocolate version (also a recent gift from someone who knows my fondness for Enstrom’s but not necessarily my non-fondness for milk chocolate.  What I’m saying is, that this junk is so fantastic, the chocolate is secondary.)

I do not bother mail-ordering candy all that often; there’s more than enough at my fingertips than I can usually manage.  But if you are half the fan of toffee that I am, Enstrom’s, is indeed worth the trouble.

Top photo courtesy of enstrom.com

Second photo courtesy of thenibble.com 

Reading about Cybele’s grandma’s homemade caramels on Candy Blog, it occurred to me that the amazing fleur de sel caramels recently crafted by my brother Rick indeed deserve a mention. More than a mention – they deserve a round of applause and big candy “ups.”

Suffice it to say, the fact that he created this delicious homemade candy causes no small amount of pride in me and confirms the fact that my love of sugar is, indeed, hereditary. (See Grandma Candy).

These salted butter caramels, individually wrapped in rustic-looking brown waxed paper, were attractively presented in a small, non-Christmasy dark orange Chinese takeout box. Not only do I love a handmade gift, but a handmade gift that is also candy and also caramel… well, that totally rules. I’m not sure whether or not this was intentional on his part, but the caramel was cooked just this side of burnt, which resulted in a full-bodied, robust and hearty caramel flavor. The exact right amount of added fleur de sel created a perfect balance to the buttery sweetness. I have sampled more than a couple salted caramels: Fran’s, Das, a few by local Portland candy makers, and these were right up there with the pros. He tells me he used a recipe that he found on epicurious –this one, to be precise.

Note: these are more on the soft/melty (as opposed to sticky/chewy) end of the caramel spectrum, which was good news for me and my recently-installed orthodontia. In other words, denture-wearing caramel fans need not be shy.

I feel conflicted about this product. The mission statement and identity of the company certainly are compelling and admirable: “To create a more just and celebrated multicultural world for our next generation. A sweetriot is a joyful celebration of culture, diversity, and understanding — it is the opposite of a civil riot, which is dangerous, violent, and oppressing.”

You can read much more about Sweetriot’s business ethics on their website, mostly centered on their social responsibility not only in using fairly traded chocolate, but also in their domestic HR practices.

While the product itself is pleasant enough, I have experienced chocolate made under similar social principles that was also extraordinarily delicious to boot.  Theo Chocolates and Endangered Species (Black Rhino Bar), being two examples.  Theo, the first roaster of Fair Trade Certified™ cocoa beans and the only roaster of organic cocoa beans in the United States, puts out a nib brittle that, at $8/$9 for a 4 oz bag (naked or enrobed in chocolate), provides much more bang for your buck.

Basically, if your goal is to eat decent enough chocolate while supporting a globally responsible business, you won’t mind shelling out $5 for a 1-ounce tin of simple chocolate-covered nibs. Doing the math, that comes out too $80/lb, which might give us cause to start a riot of our own.  $80/lb? I know it’s for a good case, but… ouch.  A better value, not to mention much more memorable nib-nibbling experience, can certainly be had elsewhere.

Photo courtesy sweetriot.com