#16: A Box of Chocolates
I'll never understand why anyone likes cloying white chocolate, and I know I'm not alone. Nevertheless, pastry chefs, industrial chocolatiers, and naturally, Starbucks have persisted in pushing the white chocolate agenda forward, recently bringing "blonde chocolate" products to the masses. Brands from Hershey's to Callebaut are playing with a toasting technique that supposedly delivers a deeper, more complex caramelized flavor. I'll take their word for it.
Innovations in what was perhaps a rather staid category have not stopped there. A few months' back, premier Swiss chocolate maker Barry-Callebaut introduced what is being touted as the "fourth chocolate," alongside Dark, Milk, and (if we must call it that) White chocolates. Their pink-hued Ruby chocolate is all-natural, processed in a way that delivers a bright, berry-forward flavor and preserves the ruby tone of the cacao bean. The Willy Wonkas behind Nestlé's Kitkat Chocolatory in Japan were the first to develop and launch the first commercial confection with the perfectly pink Ruby chocolate, just in time for internet-breaking Valentine's day mayhem.
But if you happen to be a Japanese businessman, don't expect your lady colleagues to be gifting you these, or really, any treats this V-day. Apparently, it's customary in Japanese corporate culture for women to gift giri choco as a token of appreciation to their male colleagues each Valentine's Day; men reciprocate the gesture on a similar holiday in March. Well not this year. Last week global chocolate manufacturer Godiva took out a full-page ad in the Nikkei, Japan's main business paper, making the case for managers to let women know they need not feel obliged to participate in this custom. The letter was signed by the president of Godiva Japan, who stated that he felt pained that all pleasure had been removed from this gift-giving practice.
Perhaps it would be much more enjoyable to gift a box of Furious Vulvas, made by Lagusta's Luscious confectionary in New Paltz, New York?
Actually, you know what would be more fun? Some CBD-laced bon-bons from Marigold Sweets (bottom right) or a sweet little pot of choco hearts from NotPot (top right). Oooh! Or these gorgeous "Happiness Squares" from Serra by Portland's Woodblock Chocolate. (Speaking of Serra, we're gonna get down on 'high design' in next week's edition.)
Finally, in the department of 'just desserts," (#sorrynotsorry), you may recall a bit of hipster hoo-ha from when a year or two ago, a Dallas blogger mounted a massive smear campaign against the bearded (you can't write about these guys and not mention the beards, it's the rule) Brooklyn brothers who built a shaky empire of questionable chocolate. Since then, the dust has settled a bit, though the Mast brothers have significantly pared down their operations, and perhaps their lofty ambitions, shutting down both their London and Los Angeles facilities and reducing the scope of their enormous factory in Brooklyn's Navy Yard.
But recently, a former employee from their sales team took to Medium to post a lengthy and detailed two-part series (read part one and part two here) providing an insider's account of a "wholesale debacle," in the words of author Matt Robertson. As a former wholesale buyer of Mast Brothers chocolate bars myself, I found Robertson's perspective to be candid and fair, as opposed to the ranty missive one might have expected. Nevertheless, the cocoa bros insisted on having the last word, responding directly to Robertson in the post's comments section, as well as providing comment to Eater.
Because in this era of manufactured outrage, it's useful to have a good long think on our beliefs about culture and consumerism, I recommend running yourself a Valentine bubble bath, pouring yourself a glass of something nice, and digging into this related piece on the Mast "controversy" from Helen Rosner. Here's a little taste:
One of the ascendant virtues of the new culinary landscape is the murky, poorly defined quality of authenticity. It's an idea that means wildly different things depending on who's saying it and what they're applying it to, but in all circumstances it boils down to a fundamental notion of quality by fiat: if something is authentic, it is necessarily good. Authenticity implies a purity of history, a purity of purpose — in short, if something is authentic, it isn't enjoyed because we've been barraged with external indicators that have instructed us to enjoy it; it's enjoyed because it is inherently enjoyable. Inauthentic things need to be marketed and positioned and sold. Authentic things simply exist, and are perfect, and in their perfection they handily sell themselves.