So far, so good. I’m holding fast to my chocolate embargo, although I am being helped along by daily doses of Lindt Chilli and the knowledge that the ban won’t last as long as I initially thought. I’ve discounted a lot of my travel chocolates as unworthy of being blogged, although I still have a good 10-15 to go.
Today’s catch-up chocolates are the last remaining Thorntons flavours from my England travels. I’ve previously blogged Thorntons’ chocolates here, here, and here, and now I bring you these two, erm, here. (Sentence construction brilliance!)
Thorntons Milk Chocolate with Fudge
When I discovered that, firstly, Thorntons uses the phrases “caramel flavours”, “soft fudge”, and “honey-sweet notes” to describe this bar and, secondly, that the chocolate’s ingredients include glucose syrup and sweetened condensed milk, a part of me started crying out for Theo’s 91% chocolate. I may be willing to try milk chocolate when it whispers “potentially interesting”, but at the same time I know what I like, and it isn’t super sweet flavours.
But you know what, folks? This chocolate was Sweety McSweet-Sweet from Sweetsville, but at the same time it was a little bit exciting. (Even if the fudge pieces were few and far between.)
The aroma was, unsurprisingly, sweet. It was like golden syrup drizzled on supermarket vanilla ice-cream; you know, the kind of ice cream that interprets “vanilla” as “bland sweetness”, not as the rich, black-speckled and faintly alcoholic essence of vanilla bean.
Yet when I took a bite of Thorntons’ fudge-speckled chocolate, all of a sudden my mouth was flooded with the taste of honeycomb. More specifically, this tasted almost exactly like a Crunchie (not a Violet Crumble. Violet Crumbles = ugh). For the Americans out there, I think you call this kind of confection “sponge candy”, but really you ought to track down an import store and buy yourself a Crunchie.
This isn’t spectacular chocolate. The melt is a little powdery, the fudge pieces are scarce and flavourless, and after a few squares the sweetness becomes rather overpowering. Yet I maintain that this tastes like chocolate-covered honeycomb, which is better than nothing. L-Izzle, I think you’d like this fudge chocolate.
Thorntons Dark Chocolate with Macadamia
Oh, Thorntons. I want to take your product-blurb department out back and smack it around the ears with wet newspapers. Look at what is printed on the back of the above’s package:
Sometimes the Italians add a pinch of salt to their coffee to take away the bitterness and enhance the flavour. That’s why lightly-salted, caramelised macadamias and intense dark chocolate from Dominican Republic cocoa beans make such an award-winning combination.
I’m sorry, what? Did someone delete the connecting sentence here? Forget the art of the segue? Since when does salt + coffee = macadamias + chocolate? Don’t get me wrong; I understand what they’re trying to say. I’ve mentioned many times that salt works with chocolate. But this blurb is ridiculous. Thorntons, stop trying to validate your English chocolate by referring to Italian coffee culture, and/or go back to writing/business/editing/primary school. You sound unbearably pretentious.
Nothing much to report aroma-wise, but in terms of taste this chocolate was strong in raspberries and, might I suggest, raspberry sorbet. Unfortunately for Thorntons and its purported aim in using salted macadamias, the nuts were integrated as itsy-bitsy (teeny-weeny yellow polka dot… wait, wrong train of thought) pieces that were overwhelmed by the tangy chocolate. The macadamias did provide crunch and occasionally hints of butteriness, but all in all this chocolate was all about red currant, raspberry, and acidity. In other words, not my thing, neither in terms of taste nor employment of the English language.
After trying eight different flavours of Thorntons, I can comfortably say that the only one I would willingly buy again is the pistachio.