There are certain perfect foods in the world. We could come up with a few each; say, an apple, or a sea urchin, or an egg. The foods that are complete, satisfying, a compliment to other foods. For you it might be a cheese, or a pork chop; it might be toast or a wedge […]
There are certain perfect foods in the world.
We could come up with a few each; say, an apple, or a sea urchin, or an egg. The foods that are complete, satisfying, a compliment to other foods. For you it might be a cheese, or a pork chop; it might be toast or a wedge of just-sharp-enoug cheddar. It might be a piece of dark chocolate, rich and glossy with cocoa butter.
One such food, most of us could agree, would be bacon. Oh, to be sure, there are vegans and vegetarians out there who might object or disagree. They surely speak from envy, though, and earn our pity. Poor, poor folk, denied the pleasures one of life’s most noble beasts, the pig.
Now, one of the characteristics of perfect foods is that, while we might incorporate them into other things, they seem complete and perfect as they are. How does one improve upon, say, chocolate? How can chocolate be better than in it’s most pure and simple state?
Well, interestingly enough, one can add bacon:
No, I am not kidding.
Someone bought me this the other day as a lark; last night, after my very last bottle of ’03 sinister hand, I had one of my rare must-have-sweet-treat moments, and thought, well, there’s that absurd chocolate pig, why not? (sinister hand makes me do silly things).
So I broke into the pig.
On first bite, it was simply rich, smooth, dark chocolate. After a moment, though, the palate encounters vague smoke, salt, and textures both vaguely chewy and slightly crunchy.
If you’d asked me, what’s in that, I’d have been hard put to say; something smokey? Something herbal? Whatever was in it, I’d have said, give me more, and now.
As one chews successive bites, the elements become more clear. There is, without question, bacon and salt as recognizable elements of the flavor; yet they in no way interfere. After two of three bites, I wondered why there isn’t always bacon in chocolate.
Now, I don’t claim to be the world’s greatest expert on chocolate; but I can’t think of a piece of chocolate that ever pleased me more.
I must have more. And quickly.