On The Road, Day 3: One Of These Things Is Not Like The Others…

Not a day has gone by on my trip that I haven’t seen something that has at least made me chuckle.  That’s a good sign.

The photo is a little fuzzy; since I was shooting an extremely reflective surface, I had to turn off the flash.  But the contents of this vending machine are pretty clear, and one of these things is most definitely not like the others. Granted, I may use it concurrently with the other items in the machine, but I certainly wouldn’t expect to find it available for purchase in a snack machine. First prize goes to whoever can figure out what item doesn’t fit in the category of tasty snacks.

(Click to embiggen.)

Happiness, thy name is Michel Cluizel

Call me a material girl, but one of the perks of being a teacher is the extra Christmas gifts.

I have to admit I was a bit dismayed my first couple years of teaching.  Sure, I got a few practical gifts like Barnes & Noble gift cards.  Mostly, though, it was lotions and scented candles.  Not that I don’t like either of those, but that was almost ALL I got.  And considering that some of them smelled a little questionable, it wasn’t a great couple years for student gifts.  (We’ll save those candles for another post.)

Something happened this year, though: most of my students gave me chocolate.  I’m talking giant boxes of chocolate.  There were Ferrero Rochers, there were Ghirardelli squares, there were Lindt truffles, there was homemade fudge. Possibly the most delightful of the chocolate, though, was the box of Michel Cluizel chocolates.

Oh, George, are these some amazing chocolates.  I mean, I worked at Godiva for a couple years, so I know about good chocolate.  But during the duration of my employment there I never came across chocolates like these.  Each bite sized piece was a delight to the taste buds, a creamy filling surrounded by a thin shell of the finest, most refined cocoa that only an Oompa Loompa could make.  I could easily feel right at home eating these chocolates with a glass of wine at a swanky party, all the while letting the chocolate take me to a new height of sophistication.  Pretty classy, huh?

The piece pictured to the right was once an unassuming little ball of milk chocolate.  Only once I bit into it did I discover an unbelievable hazelnut praliné filling encased in a layer of superbly crunchy toffee.  I’ll let you in on a little secret, gang: chocolate, hazelnut and toffee is one of my all time favorite taste combinations, so this piece was a winner.  Eating this piece was as if there was a party in my mouth and everyone there was skinny dipping in the chocolate fountains.

This is not to say that the other gifts my students bestowed upon me were substandard.  On the contrary, they were all quite lovely this year.  I’m just saying that I don’t usually get such a luxurious box of chocolate from a student (I know where he bought it, and that store is a little out of my league), or from anyone, for that matter.

So here we are, a good six to eight weeks since I received my box of delights, and I am delighted that I have only now finished the box.  All but one piece, that is: a small square of rich dark chocolate dusted with gold flakes remains.  I am so proud of myself that I managed to stretch out my devouring of these gourmet chocolates over a month and a couple weeks, eating only one piece a day, if that.

Here goes….nom.

Toffee wars

I like chocolate.  A lot. So much, in fact, that I have at times deeply regretted quitting my job at Godiva Chocolatier to attend college.  While there, I was forced to sample every single piece of chocolate in the display case, so that I could answer truthfully and in an educated manner when a customer pointed and asked the inevitable, “What does that taste like?”

Over the course of my employment at that fine establishment (which has since deteriorated in appearance, along with the rest of Christiana Mall), I developed a taste for one piece in particular.  This was a small, cubical piece of milk chocolate which engulfed a thin piece of crunchy toffee that sat upon a dollop of hazelnut praliné.  That piece of chocolate was simply the most divine confection ever to pass my lips.  Unfortunately, Godiva has not made this piece for a number of years, which has compelled me to find a replacement for my new-found favorite chocolate combination.

Hershey’s Foods Corporation distributes two chocolate-covered toffee bars: Skor and Heath.  Believe it or not, I didn’t realize until relatively recently that both of these candy bars were toffee inside of chocolate.  This occurred on a day when my craving for chocolate and toffee became so strong that I had to drop everything and race to the nearest convenience store to satisfy my craving.  Much to my surprise, I found two seemingly identical candy bars sitting next to each other on the shelf.  After purchasing both of them, I decided to do a little scientific comparison.

The comparison began by examining the physical characteristics of both bars. Interestingly, the design on the top of each bar, made by lightly dragging something across the still-wet chocolate during production, was virtually identical. Their dimensions and weight were identical as well, measuring in at 12.34 centimeters by 3 centimeters, and weighing in at precisely 1.4 ounces (the weight as marked on the wrapper, which was confirmed with a small scale).  The durability of the bars were then tested by snapping them both in half.  Due to a harder texture throughout, Skor snapped a bit more easily than the Heath bar, whose slightly softer chocolate caused the bar to bend in the slightest before finally snapping.  Finally, the color of each bar was examined.  As they are both chocolate-covered toffee, there were two distinct regions to examine.  Skor was darker in color all around, with a rich, caramel-colored toffee center surrounded by a milk chocolate with a slightly darker hue.  The toffee in the center of the Heath bar, on the other hand, was lighter and creamier in color, as if milk had been added to the toffee.  Likewise, the milk chocolate of the Heath bar reflected the lighter quality.

Next, the nutritional qualities of each bar were examined.  Like the physical characteristics, they seemed to be virtually identical, with only small, almost unnoticeable differences.  The levels of total fat (12 grams), carbohydrates (24 grams), proteins (1 gram) and fat calories (110) were the same in each bar.  Even the number of total calories (210) were identical.  The discrepencies between the other nutritional elements were minor: Skor had 2 grams more saturated fat, 5 grams more cholesterol, and 1 gram more sugars.  Heath not only surpassed Skor with 15 grams more sodium, but also boasted extra ingredients that were not included in Skor: partially hydrogenated soybean oil, soy lecithin and artificial flavor.

Finally, a taste test was conducted.  The taste test was three-pronged, in that the texture, taste and after-taste were compared. In terms of texture, the center of Skor was quite crunchy, and the chocolate, which melted once in the mouth, made for a delightful contrast.  The Heath bar was softer, providing less of a crunch, and therefore less of a contrast between toffee and chocolate.  In terms of taste, Skor was well-balanced, with a caramel-tasting toffee that was well-complemented by the not too-sweet chocolate.  The chocolate in the Heath bar was overpowered by the extremely nutty taste of the toffee.  The after-taste test was the most telling.  The taste of the Skor lingered delightfully on the tongue for a relatively short period of time, as it should.  However, the taste of the Heath bar deteriorated into what can only be described as “funky,” and attached itself to the taste buds for much longer than desired; so much longer, in fact, that a Dr. Pepper was utilized to contend with the after-taste.

In conclusion, this temporary and makeshift scientist deduced that on the whole, Skor was better tasting, and, lacking the partially hydrogenated soybean oil, healthier.  It is shocking that two seemingly similar candy bars can taste so drastically different.  I will be sending my findings to Hershey’s Food Corporation post haste, recommending that they remove Heath bars from the market and replace them with more Skors.

Cakealicious

Last week, the father of one of my students sat in on his daughter’s lesson. After the lesson he shook my hand, told me the obvious truth that I am a fabulous teacher, and thanked me under his breath for tolerating his overly hyperactive daughter. He then turned to her and said, “We should bring Miss Megan a cake.” She nodded furiously, and jumped up and down in agreement. Turning to me, he asked, “Do you like cake?”

Now, that’s one of the silliest questions ever to pass by my ears. I smiled, blushing, admitting that cake is, in fact, one of my vises. Mr A. threw up his hands and declared, “Then next week you’re getting a cake!” As I watched them walking down the hall to the exit, I figured one of two things would happen. Either they would forget, or it would be a small piece of a funky cake-like substance.

However, when they returned this afternoon, I was informed that I had a choice of cake: Carrot, Dark Side of the Moon, or Chocolate Cheesecake. Confused, I asked about this “Dark Side of the Moon,” of which I had never before heard. Mr A. explained that it is a chocolate cake soaked in Kahlúa, frosted with a dark chocolate ganache. My curiosity was piqued, so I opted for the Dark Side of the Moon. Mr A. informed me that the cake was in the car, and would return at the end of the lesson. With that, he swept out of the room and his daughter’s lesson began.

At the end of the young lady’s lesson, he returned with a large box in his arms. Shocked, I peeked inside and beheld a cake the size of a small television, complete with perfectly even ganache frosting, and wafer-thin chocolate pieces in the shape of a moon adorning the top of each individual ready-to-cut slices.  The aroma wafting from the box was so heavenly that I could hardly restrain myself from diving in face-first.

It turns out that Mr A. is an accomplished pastry chef. Apparently, once he decides he likes someone, he regularly presents him or her with various baked goods. I have never before had such a gift bestowed upon me. The closest I had ever come was a cup of half-melted ice cream from a student who was running late for a lesson due to a long line at the local popular ice cream dive.

In an amazing stroke of luck, my next student called out sick, so I had the next 45 minutes to sample this culinary masterpiece. Normally, chocolate cake isn’t my cake of choice, as it usually is too rich and too dry. This cake, however, probably due to the soaking in coffee-flavored liquer, was incredibly moist and flavorful. It is probably the best chocolate cake I have ever tasted.

I am a lucky, lucky girl.