Geert is testing me fully with these two Maranon Fortunato No4 enrobed homemade gianduja. Not only because I haven’t paid him yet for the other stuff he sent at the same time (I’m still waiting for the bill my good friend), but also because I’m rarely fond of gianduja – despite having an almost addiction-like love affair with almonds.
What we have here, however, is anything like the mass-produced gianduja that most big chocolate companies will pump out. That is course, too saline, too far out of balance with the chocolate enrobing and hardly edible. Although I certainly couldn’t consume a whole bar of Geert’s in one go, the quarter-or-so I cut off is going down exceptionally well.
It’s the balance that I love. The gianduja is sharp and sweet but keep within the realms of decency. It gives you the sweet kick you’re craving but still manages to give you that natural-flavour that large chocolatiers miss. This authenticity is what draws me further into it. At the back of my mouth I can feel the juices being drawn out in excitement. I really shouldn’t like something like this – but it hits my brain’s receptors. It’s craving more. The devil on the one shoulder is telling me to scoff the lot, whilst the angel on the other is telling me to hold firm and not give into temptation.
The thought of that sublime texture keeps coming back to haunt me. Smooth, silky, even more refined than the Pralus Barre Infernale. I must resist. Wrapping it up and putting it back in the cupboard was the only way to do so. I know I will revisit it tomorrow when some piece of work or other task will grind my will-power down to nothing.
If I walked into Geert’s chocolaterie I would probably buy some other of his wonderful creations, not least his ganaches. But, there is something to be said for having something foist upon you that you wouldn’t normally go for. I do this with my curry choices; I should do it more often with my chocolate.
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