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The golden sweetness of an infant’s smile, this chocolate satisfies the lover, not the experimenter, of chocolate. Beginning with a a light tart and Colbie Caillet bubbly-innocence, the Blood Orange glides into a smoothness so violent you’ll be asking if Annie is okay.

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Complex. Paradoxic. Arousing, in a strange way - an air of earthy mystery surrounds it like a cabin with logs of solid oak wood, in the sequoia forest of old Yosemite; step inside yet, and you’ll be greeted with the liquid sweetness of bourbon-like devotion to a lover. The bitter-sweet aftertaste doth reminds of an age-old piano who’s had his turn of masterful musicians, who used to chime with sweet music, but now sits in a cluttered antique shop, resting, until he is chosen again.

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If you found  can of pears circa WW2 gathering dust under your stairs, and in a moment of extreme curiosity and weakness, you decided to eat the entire can. Optimistically you could say there’s just a “hint” of dirt lurking in your mouth, but realistically, it would be better compared to watching 90s Adam Sandler movies with no bathroom breaks, while getting “NO REGERTS” tattooed on your upper lip.

Or simply Anakin’s jedi mullet and the entirety of Revenge of the Sith.

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Dark Pear/Cinnamon
This chocolate is the grumpy old lady in the neighborhood that thinks she's a Good Samaritan by “keeping the children in line” but comes off as repugnant to everyone she contacts. For hours after the  interaction the mood is contaminated, plagued by the sheer bitterness that is ejected from the lady’s mouth into the ambience like a foaming soap dispenser. The only consolation is that with each interaction you know the woman is a bit closer to death. Please don’t buy this chocolate.

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The disappointment of not being able to taste the smooth, sweet deliciousness of your favorite food comes in stages. The rain first arrives as a light putter-pattering of sadness against a tin roof. The water melts away all walls that were built to mask your hunger for something sweet, which now is persistent and loud, as the drizzle turns into rolling thunder. This thunder feeds into the boiling anger, striking as lightning and screaming like a kettle, ready to burst. Then the storm calms, the bliss of acceptance settles in as the coolness of a light fog, leaving your walls intact, lying to yourself, and making you feel okay with choosing a healthy snack over your favorite treat.

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Danny Devito sitting on a bench in a crowded amusement park in mid June, slightly sweaty and thirsty, wearing an old Hawaiian shirt.

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The girl at a party that nobody knew beforehand but has now become everyone's best friend. Piques your interest with a mysterious, dark exterior, but once you speak to her, her warm and lively personality spills out, filling you with a sense of belonging and trust.

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The crunchy bitter reality of the world. The first taste of the daunting adulthood, with taxes and 40 hour work weeks. The aftertaste of a midlife crisis, when you realize the choices you made, and can not change them. Stuck with them forever. Knowing life will never get better until you wash it away with a drink.

-RL

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Ya ever been waterboarded with gasoline? Napalm? Corpse bile? Well, thankfully, this chocolate doesn’t do that, but he’d sure feel sorry if that had happened. Even if you were just havin’ a not so great day (something he could tell just from your body language) he’d go and make you a nice sandwich to make you feel better. He’d even remember to cut off the crusts (he knows from past sandwich exchanges you aren’t fond of them) and, because he’s not one to waste, he’d throw them to his Irish terrier. Macho. Or maybe, if Macho wasn’t feeling up to it, he’d carefully place them in his in home composter (don’t worry, he’ll mulch them later, he doesn’t want to disturb your sandwich eating with all the ruckus). This chocolate is a friend.

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the blood orange chocolate is so sweet u would suspect it was fake, like when a rich person is donating to charity and as soon as they do it go to the press and talk about how amazing they are. It’s an unlikely combination, like when Kevin Hart was on Jimmy Fallon's show and you thought it was going to be awkward but you never enjoyed two people together more.

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Toffee and Pretzel
This divided bar of chocolate perfectly balanced salty and sweet. It takes you by surprise like a movie you have high expectations for and then exceeds it the first time you watch it. But after a second and third viewing you get tired of it, almost sick of it.

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This chocolate is the rich family who shops at Walmart. They have a hard time fitting their value pack of toilet paper in their Tesla so they give up and, instead, order it from Amazon. When they get home, their two golden retrievers bolt from the front door and greet the children- one girl and one boy of course. Soon, the father and son begin a game of catch out in the front yard within the hour the wife calls them in for a new and spicy dinner- white rice with salt.

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This chocolate is a little girl in her first ball gown. Hosting a dainty tea party, gently tapping fragile teacups together. But then she jumps out of her car onto her thick soled boots shouldering a leather jacket over hidden tattoos.

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A midnight rendezvous to the hotel mini bar, and two citrus cocktails for the lovers. The ever-pouring rains in London puts everyone in sour moods, but for now they have eachother.

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It is a nice, dark chocolate in the beginning.  It is a child that broke a vase.  The sweet chocolate drastically changes flavor like a sour patch kid and turns into a mild chicken win.  Not too hot, but spicy enough to taste good.

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One expects to spit this out with a tongue burning likes it’s on fire but it will have you confused. The Chili is absent like a student that was expected to be in class. Hit with dark chocolate that’s is as basic as a white girl on social media, you’ll try to find the chili but it’s like math, confusing and impossible to find answers. Then the aftertaste is like the weakest bee stung you in the back of your throat and not even bothering to give you a taste of his honey.

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Toffee pretzel

The smoothness of a moonwalk when you first taste it. It’s like Michael Jackson’s Smooth Criminal without the controversy. The glaze of chocolate covers the top. When you get to the crunchy Pretzel, it’s salty but sweet with the peanut butter brittle taste. You know the one that your grandma bring tubs of it over at christmas.

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The taste of this chocolate is reminiscent of work boots crunching through snow and ice. A salt of the earth milk chocolate that is like a demure flower in late February; sweet but barely there.

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This distant chocolate is like the mood swings of a little kid. It is lowkey, like a shy child afraid to raise their hand when they have something to say. But it is also bitter, like a kid whining about losing a Monopoly game. When that bitterness turns into anger, it is reflected in a slightly spicy manner, like hot sauce with fries.

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It may appear to be another unassuming carat of chocolate, but as soon as you pry into a piece you’ll be met with the rocky pinnacles of pretzel. Continue your trek, however, and the chocolate’s crags give way to a thick, creamy waterfall. Don’t spend too much time in the toffee’s tides, lest you risk a flood.

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It’s not quiet the afternoon you’d planned, but now that you’re here, sprawled beneath the orchid trees, you are content. The ground bleeds warm around you as you dig your fingers into the soft, rich dirt and listen to the buzz of bees, or is it wasps, in the branches overhead, just a tad too far away to be concerned.

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When you first bite into this chocolate you get the taste and feeling of when you realize you just bit into a moldy piece of stale bread. You then feel the disappointment of when you have to show your parents your grades. Then you’re just left with a girl on her period, pure bitterness.
Grace Hennigan

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Chocolate: Dark Chocolate with Bacon - Ms. Casey

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Chocolate: Dark Chocolate with Bacon - Ms. Casey

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This perplexing morsel irreverently combines the conflicting sensations of savory and sweet. Like a confused preteen standing in front of the mirror wallowing in angst and self-discovery, this chocolate struggles to be understood. And yet, the confusion is ultimately endearing, like watching a millennial finally learn how to navigate their journey using a paper map.