Category Archives: Product reviews

Love for Norman Love

I’ve never been to Florida, though I think it would be entertaining to visit Miami. I have visions of beaches, svelte bodies, and skin as far as the eye can see. It’s decidedly hot and sexy. And, let’s be honest, that’s not really an aesthetic that goes well with chocolate. After all, hot + chocolate = melty mess. Sexy + chocolate…well, that one works. Now that you mention it, maybe melty mess isn’t so terrible after all.

Ahem.

I don’t think you can get Norman Love chocolates in Canada. That is, I’ve never seen them (and I would love to be wrong). You should have seen my face when I found them at Chocolopolis. I bought one of everything.

There are a lot of heart-shaped chocolates (Norman Love, get it?) but each one is perfectly, impeccably molded. It’s a chocolatier’s dream: impossibly thin shells that yield just so to expose the hidden gem inside.

Technique aside, these are decidedly sexy chocolates. If I didn’t know that Norman Love was based out of Florida, the chocolates would have told me. They’re brightly coloured, they’re flamboyant, they’re fun. They’re almost – but not quite – brash.

And the taste? Oh, lordy. Divine.

Green tangerine, where have you been all my life?

A quick Google search of “green tangerine” turns up a scrapbooking store, a spa, and a whole bunch of media companies. I just want to know where to get the damn things so I can try to reverse engineer Soma Chocolatemaker‘s green Tangerine chocolate bar.

Of course, that’s silly. I don’t have a grinder or a conch, or a reliable supply of cacao beans from Madagascar. But, in my dreams I have all those things – and granite countertops, too.

This microbatch chocolate bar is called Dark Fire, and rings in at 66% cocoa content. And it made me say wow. It tastes like 7 am on a beautiful spring day when you went to bed early the night before, and now you’re awake and ready to spring out of bed.

This chocolate is actually refreshing. There’s an immediate kick of bright, acidic lime that mellows to a darker orange-y flavour and just hints at the bitterness of lime zest. Thankfully, it never quite gets there. Chocolate from Madagascar is notorious for its full-on red fruitiness, but I don’t get that from this bar. I’m not sure if the red fruit is just not apparent (whether accidental or intentional) or if it’s just masked by the strong citrus flavours.

I don’t really care, actually. I just want to have another piece.

A toast…to toast

I remember attending a friend’s wine tasting, and tasting a white wine that tasted like broom. No joke. I was really skeptical when someone described it that way, but then I tasted it and got what they meant. I can’t say that I really enjoyed it, nor have I tasted it since, but it was definitely memorable.

Along the same lines, Soma Chocolatemaker‘s Black Science bar is a wee bit unusual. It’s a microbatch bar made of beans from Papua New Guinea, coming in at 70% cocoa content. It smells smoky and sweet, and – wait for it – tastes like toast. Toast is actually not unheard of as a chocolate tasting note, but I rarely experience it. Well, it’s in this bar, and it kind of mellows from breakfast toast to toasted almonds. It’s slightly sweeter than I expected, but not cloying. And there’s this satisfying astringent pucker on your tongue afterwards.

Tonight, I will raise a glass to unusual flavours. To broom, and toast!

Soma Chocolatemaker (pop) rocks!

I have no willpower. None whatsoever. And when it comes to a case full of chocolates, all shiny and beautiful, I usually err on the side of lavish and try one of everything. Now, if it’s a chocolatemaker in Vancouver, I can pace myself and try a few on each visit. But when travelling, I usually get one piece of everything that’s available. It’s a hard-knocked life.

So when I was in Toronto, I bought a giant box of truffles from Soma Chocolatemaker. They range from classic (fleur de sel caramel, orange marzipan) to modern (single-origin flavours) to unusual (Douglas Fir, olive oil). I’m impressed at the range of flavours, but more importantly, with the execution. Each piece was perfect, each shell was uniform and thin, and the fillings all delivered what they promised.

The standout, though, was Sparky: gianduja laced with poprocks. I know it sounds gimicky. But the gianduja (a combination of caramelized hazelnuts and milk chocolate) was the perfect vehicle to deliver those long-lost childhood exploding candies. It was entirely delightful, entertaining, and whimsical – which is, actually, what the experience of tasting chocolate should be like. It’s a seasonal truffle, but maybe if we all request it en masse, it’ll win a permanent spot on the chocolate menu.

Soma Chocolatemaker
55 Mill Street, Building 48
Toronto, ON
416-815-7662

Soma Chocolatemaker’s English Toffee: yes, please!

When I visited Soma Chocolatemaker in Toronto, I felt like a kid in a candy store. I guess it’s not that far off from being a chocophile in a chocolate store. Hrm.

The high ceilings and brick walls make you feel like you’ve walked into a Dickensian novel, while the glass-fronted rooms (labelled as “chocolate laboratory” and “gelato laboratory”) make you feel like you’re in a futuristic space place. It’s a neat contrast that I would talk about in more detail, aside from the fact that I was distracted by chocolate.

Aside from their own microbatch bars (more on those in posts to come), Soma carries some other bean-to-bar producers. Again, more on those later. There’s no real logic to the selection, except that owner David Castellan likes them. And listen: if the head chocolatier, chocolatemaker and bossman wants to bring in chocolates that he likes, I’m not one to argue.

We met briefly to talk about bean sourcing and chocolate science, and he mentioned that his English toffee recipe was incredibly difficult to develop. Given that – and my love of all things toffee – I had to try it.

Oh, lordy. Tasty. Crunchy. Nutty. Sweet. Ever-so-slightly salty. Think buttery, snappy, caramel-y toffee, coated with Peruvian milk chocolate, and topped with toasted almonds. I had to email David to ask if he put magic fairy dust in it, which was restrained on my part. I really wanted to ask where he bought the crack that the toffee was so clearly laced with. I started with a wee chunk – a taste, you might say – and fifteen minutes later, was staring at a sad, empty bag. And that made me feel sad and slightly empty, except that I was actually quite full. Of intoxicatingly delicious toffee.

Soma Chocolatemaker
55 Mill Street, Building 48
Toronto, ON
416-815-7662