when chocolate pigs fly

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:


flyingpig.jpg

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.

0 thoughts on “when chocolate pigs fly”

  1. Somehow, knowing what i know about you, this doesn’t surprise me. You should search the restaurant Highway 4. In Vietnam. I am in search of a companion to eat there someday. if you know anyone.

  2. One can also invest in some really good chocolate, some really good bacon and put the 2 together, thereby cutting out the middleman and keeping it on hand for WHENEVER YOU WANT….

    Pouring choco isn’t hard. Frying bacon isn’t hard. And yes… The 2 together are AMAZING.

  3. LOL

    when I saw the title I thought of Pink Floyd..
    Pigs Flying….

    chocolate bacon… hhmm can’t get the taste buds to think what that would taste like…

  4. Syl, you’re sayin’ you like the chocolate salty balls?

    DN, yes, one can pour all sorts of unlikely things together. The question isn’t can you, but do you have the gift to find the exact point where these things go from experiment the haute cuisine.

    Highway 4? I’m in.

  5. Have to agree with you on the bacon and chocolate duo…the best food in the world…Just wondering how I can get my hands on some and do they send to Oz? And the video..sorry my mind was still with the bacon chocolate….totally busted my ass laffing and immediately sent it(the vid not my ass) to friends.By chance do you know when it was made?….thankx

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