A Hotel for All!

This evening, in an atypical suburban married-person moment, T and I went to a mall.
I know, right?
Horror of horrors.

But the thing is, we had a good time.
We went into Williams Sonoma and ate free little bites of Pannetone and Snickerdoodle panini (summary judgement - Pannetone = always good. Snickerdoodle spread = bad idea, way too sweet, slimey, and overwhelming) and spiced cider (good flavor, too sweet, not hot enough). We returned some stuff at The Gap (remember the old commercial? Fall... in..to... the.... Gap? well, I fell in and $60 fell out with me! wahoo!). We wandered a little...

to find...
something rather surprising and good.

Hotel Chocolat.


A British rebuttal against the idea that the UK is incapable of generating actual chocolate, Hotel Chocolat has taken over the previously weird and dank space occupied by Stoddard's (imagine the unabomber's basement, albeit a great place to have your knives sharpened, they do a perfect job!), and rehabbed it into a chic, sleek, temple of chocolate.



Mostly, the wares are displayed as potential gifts - gorgeous themed gift collections and boxes, in the event your holiday hosts have been very, verrrry good.

The single shopkeeper was enthusiastic and extremely knowledgeable about the brand, and (perhaps more importantly) very liberal with the samples. We tried a small piece of milk chocolate with caramel - I didn't really like it (it had good texture, but, and this often happens for me, I felt the milk chocolate was missing some vital chocogoodness in terms of depth of flavor and the caramel addition yielded a product that was just too sweet and undercomplicated), and was planning to walk out, assuming Hotel Chocolat made British-palate-tuned chocolate (sorry to my English friends, but I find most English sweets to be so overwhelmingly sticky, sweet, and monotone that I have been known to spit them out. Cadbury products (with two small exceptions - any guesses?) give me nightmares of my teeth falling out (no comments from the Freudians, mmm'kay?).)

then I asked the question that changed the melody,
"Do you carry anything combining chocolate with salt?"



This was the magic request, a la "open sesame."

From her top drawer, the lovely and devious chocoteuse produced giant samples of their The Purist 70-something % dark chocolate bar with salt. hurrah. This was delicious. Texture was stiff, glossy, with a distinct and pleasant snap, smooth melt against the palate, and a complex, floral chocolate flavor married (without grit) to a nice dose of the sodium I adore.

I loved it. This was one nice bar of chocolate. T was so impressed, he bought one, plus a 72% Ocumare Valley single origin bar with Chili and Cocoa Nibs. Which we tried last night with a few sips of Washington state cab... one square was all I needed to feel sated. It is delicious.

Summary judgement: Go, Hotel Chocolat, go. I dot know why you have a sort of witless French-inspired name for a British company making a mostly South American product, but I don't care. The shop is chic, the service was friendly, smart, and generous, and most importantly, the chocolate was really really excellent once I found what suits my palate. There are lots of choices, so I'd think there is something for everyone, even the dastardly Cadbury-milk eaters. Not that they should.

each The Purist bar is 75 grams and costs ten bucks. We went to Hotel Chocolat in Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts.

Tagine smarts!

So we did eat at Clio for our anniversary, and the food was awesome, as usual. I broke my usual meat-free lifestyle rules for the genius of Ken Oringer, and all I have to say is that everything we ate was nummy! I shared a foie gras app with a friend (no comments about gavage, I don't want to discuss it...) and the flavor combo was fantastic. But the superstar supper-star was the licorice lacquered duck with some kind of parsnip thing and fennel. They seem to blunt-dissect the skin off and crisp, then replace, it. Perfection.

I figure, if I am going to eat meat, I want it delicious.

One down spot: T ordered the chocolate dessert, which I found uninspiring. Pretty, but the test is always in the taste. I found it blah. I am wondering if there is a new pastry chef? If so, I imagine that person needs to step up his game to match the timbre of the rest of the orchestra or get out.

So, while Clio needs no more praise, particularly being that I am not a dessert person, I will state again for the record that noone has beat it yet, in my book. I still think Clio is the best restaurant in Boston, it was a lovely spot for our anniversary dinner.

As for the tagine thing: I got up from the table to the ladies' room shortly after my entree was served. When I returned, a white porcelain tagine had been placed over my dinner to keep it warm. A lovely and intelligent solution! Just another plus to the always fantastic service, I thought it was a classy and chic maneuver.