So, my favorite part of the internet is that it fulfills this totally 12-year-old part of me that wanted a foreign pen pal but got stuck with a letter bully¹ I met through my Breyer Horse catalog. Except now! Now I have actual pen pals! Case in point!
PACKAGES! Oh my god packages. Now, I already knew what this was because I’d asked for it, but Alice at bread & honey is still the hero of my week for pretty much totally mailing me a partially-eaten bar of candy. True. Maybe I should explain.
So she takes a photograph of this bar of coffee and I lose my mind. Not coffee-flavored chocolate, but coffee. A bar. Of coffee.
Even the maker, Sahagun, has a difficult time explaining it, though I think they nail it on the head by saying: it’s like chocolate, but without the chocolate. Before I show you my photograph of the bar, I want to show you their photograph from their own website, because theirs is lovely and hyper-crisp and architectural:
Mine, however, was the victim of a postal carrier that decided that actually folding the package into my mail box — which is tiny, and is why there’s a large shelf thing to place oversized items — was the best method of delivering my mail.
Despite this mangling, I was still excited to get a piece of candy that a stranger gave me into my piehole.
To the fingers it feels like chocolate, and melted in my fingers like chocolate before I’d even had a chance to take a nibble. However, immediately taking a bite it’s clear that it’s something else; too easy to bite into, a little grainy, and somehow lacking the dense mouthfeel of good dark chocolate, despite having a base of cocoa butter. The flavor of coffee is immediate but not as complex as I’d hoped. In fact, the low sugar content and lack of milk or vanilla gives the distinct impression of eating, well, coffee grounds.
It’s a product that a coffee lover would immediately enjoy, but I think Sahagun and I both are doing it a real disservice by making comparisons to chocolate. I mean, it’s unavoidable given the appearance of the product, but the textures, flavors and overall experience are just too dissimilar. I gave a piece to my coffee-addicted live-in Viking, Mike, and his review wasn’t entirely one of thrill. “It needs more sugar!” he told me, though he appeared to have no trouble finishing what I’d given him. We agreed: maybe something more than just sugar is needed to bring this experience away from licking the inside of your french press. But I’m still intrigued and find myself nibbling on the bar despite what I’ve said here and despite my ears ringing and how much caffeine do you think is in one of these are those sparkles on the screen or in my eyeballs do you hear that?
¹We immediately shared exactly which models we had in our collections, and apparently mine were unsatisfactory. I wrote back and told her she was stuck-up and received a letter back from her mother telling me I was a brat. Like that’s news.