Michel Cluizel 1er Cru De Plantation Concepcion

Sometimes, a girl finds herself in the mood to eat a block of chocolate where the primary focus is not the chocolate itself, but the flavours added to it. In such cases, a girl might reach for a Chocomize White Chocolate with Crystallised Violets, Soybeans and Toffee, or a B.T. McElrath Chile Limón Bar.

At other times, a girl finds herself in the mood to sit at home wearing a floral pink and blue skirt, a green and black spotted singlet top, and mismatched calf-high socks whilst fastforwarding through the more violent parts of Rome.

But we’re not going to talk about those moods today.

We’re here because of the times when a girl is in the mood for high-quality, nuanced, complex, unadulterated, and pure chocolate craftsmanship.

We’re here for Michel Cluizel.

Michel Cluizel 1er Cru de Plantation Concepcion

Michel Cluizel 1er Cru de Plantation Concepcion

I was horrified to discover I’ve only reviewed one Michel Cluizel chocolate on this blog so far. I’ve actually tried almost every Michel Cluizel chocolate bar there is, but such eating all occurred pre-blog. Sadly, Michel Cluizel is very hard to find in Canberra. Trip to Paris, anyone?

For the moment, I can talk to you about Michel Cluizel’s 66% Concepcion chocolate. This chocolate is from the 1er Cru de Plantation line, which means that all of its cacao comes from one single plantation. The plantation that grows the beans for this Concepcion chocolate is in Venezuela, and if it’s anything like my Venezuelan friend Maria, it’s bound to be loyal and fun, and will bring a smile to your face.

Michel Cluizel 1er Cru de Plantation Concepcion

Even just breathing in a Michel Cluizel chocolate makes me happy. There are so many nuances in the aroma that it’s near certain the taste will be equally brilliant, complex, and satisfying. This Concepcion bar sent forth a bouquet of citrus, walnut, dulce de leche, sawdust (in a good way…) and mango, as well as the rich undercurrent of pure chocolate-y goodness.

(By the by, after careful consideration I’ve decided that if I ever do meet someone and get married, I don’t want a bridal bouquet made of citrus, walnuts, dulce de leche, and sawdust. It would be far too sticky, and I wouldn’t want my groom licking my hands in front of our families*.)

Michel Cluizel 1er Cru de Plantation Concepcion

Now that we’ve got the serious wedding business out of the way, it’s time to let you know whether this Venezuelan chocolate did replicate my Venezuelan friend in bringing a smile to my face.

It did.

Every time my teeth sank through a smooth, slowly-melting and almost-fudgy square of this vegan 66% dark chocolate, a wave of lingering flavour notes slipped into my mind. My first happy thought was that there was no tanginess or sourness to this chocolate, nor any acrid bitterness.

Michel Cluizel 1er Cru de Plantation Concepcion

This chocolate is all about rich, cohesive flavours sweeping in and over each other, so that you notice caramel, then spice cake, then black tea and its tannins, then tobacco and muscovado sugar, black tea again and caramel, followed by hints of olives, cherries, and smoke, then again that lingering deep-yet-sweet combination of almost-burnt caramel and tea.

In a word, this Michel Cluizel Concepcion chocolate is lovelyhitsthespotrichdarkcomplexlovely.

And it’s made me yearn for the 1er Cru de Plantation Vila Gracinda and Los Ancones bars, because I remember liking those chocolates even more than this one in the past.

* Seriously, why do I type these things?

Michel Cluizel Noir au Praliné à l’Ancienne

I have a soft spot for Michel Cluizel. It was this chocolatier’s 1ers Crus de Plantation (Single Plantation) line that first opened my mind to how nuanced and diverse chocolate can be, depending on such factors as the origin of the cacao, the year of harvest, and whether or not the bar uses soy lecithin and/or vanilla. Do these positive feelings mean I’ll be biased when reviewing all Michel Cluizel chocolate? I’d like to think not. After all, I love Chuao’s Spicy Maya and Chinita chocolates, yet still vehementally critiqued its crackly fizzing Firecracker chocolate of doom.

Michel Cluizel Noir au Praliné à l’Ancienne

Michel Cluizel Noir au Praline a l'Ancienne

Honestly, if there were any bias affecting my opinion of this chocolate, it’d be a negative one. You see, the first time I tried this was also the night I got food poisoning in New York (and the less said about that, the better). Yet as I’m incredibly dedicated to everyone reading this blog out there in the magical mystery world of The Interwebs, I bravely prepared myself to once more put my well-being on the line by nibbling this chocolate creation. I know, I know. The sacrifices I make for you lot…

Michel Cluizel Chocolate noir au praline a l'ancienne

As an Australian, I’ve grown up associating the word “praline” with the soft and mousse-like hazelnut filling found in such chocolates as Guylian Seashells. However, the praliné found in this Michel Cluizel chocolate is a far different beast. More to the point, it’s a far tastier beast.

You might remember that I once took you on a tour of the Louvre and waxed lyrical over Camille’s praliné truffles. In both Camille’s and Michel Cluizel’s case, praliné refers to a powder made of pulverised caramelised nuts. Shall I give you Babelfish’s translation of the French description of the Noir au Praliné à l’Ancienne? I think I shall.

In large cauldrons out of red copper heated with naked fire, the whole almonds and hazel nuts were cooked in heart in caramelized cane sugar. Crushed then under grinding stones out of granite, this praline-flavoured ice cream with l’ancienne Marie with relish with the black chocolate.

Giggle.

Michel Cluizel chocolate noir au praline a l'ancienne

Dear me, I’ve talked rather a lot without describing the chocolate, haven’t I? This is what happens when I type a post whilst watching Masterchef (and being utterly dissatisfied with the outcome. Why oh why must Joanna keep surviving eliminations? She’s like a cockroach).

Right. The chocolate. Two words: loved it. The 60% dark chocolate surrounding the praliné is sweet and rich, with much-appreciated-by-me notes of coffee and molasses. As you can see in the photo above, the praliné is sandy in texture and colour. What you can’t see is the strong flavour hit of caramelised sugar and roasted nuts that it contributes to the bar.

I wouldn’t describe the praliné as distinctly hazelnut or almond-like in flavour; in fact, it tasted more like powdered sesame snaps and halvah. The overall taste of this bar is of sweet, dark and silky chocolate combined with buttery nuts and wisps of toffee and honey.

Definitely worth risking food poisoning for. Particularly as I know, in my heart of hearts, that it was the tofu and edamame dinner that caused the trials and tribulations that night.

Chocolate would never be so cruel.