Warning: Rather shoddy pictures ahead. This is what happens when I forget to take photos during the day, and suddenly everything’s dark at 5pm. As I said in my last post: Stupid Winter.
Charlemagne Topsy Turvy Violet Chocolate
Charlemagne’s Topsy Turvy chocolate line is made in Belgium, and while I did indeed visit Belgium during my recent escapades, I actually picked this up in Munich. Picked it up, stashed it in my suitcase beneath… well… lacy items, and then completely and totally forgot about it.
I think part of the reason I forgot about this chocolate is that I’m a bit uncertain about floral flavourings. As a child, I couldn’t stand rosewater in any incarnation, and to this day I find lavender to be quite an unpleasant smell. Lavender smells like ageing, to me. That said, I’ve quite enjoyed lavender-flavoured chocolates in the past, so I held out hope for my Topsy Turvy Violet wonder.
For a floral-wary lass like myself, the aroma of this chocolate was frightening. It was very strong in violet or, to speak less politely, it was very strong in soap. Ve-ery soapy. Half made me consider gliding into a bath and lathering up. (Except, of course, my hair would then have been wet upon going to bed. And as anyone with non-straight hair would know, that is a Very Bad Idea.)
Luckily for you (and for Charlemagne, whomever he/she is), I’m not only a floral-wary lass but a brave lass, so I closed my eyes and popped a broken-off piece of chocolate in my mouth.
Well, what do you know? Not bad. Not bad at all. In fact, really rather delicious. The slight soapy edge to the violet did show up in the taste, but not in an overpowering or discomforting way. In fact, the violet simply played into the marshmallow-sweetness of the chocolate itself to create a taste that I can best describe as not simply floral, but feminine and floaty.
If you promise not to laugh, I’ll even admit that each time I let a piece of this chocolate melt on my tongue, I pictured embroidered cushions, handmade dolls in bonnets and pinafores such as I used to see in country towns such as Berrima and Bungendore, and crocheted doilies.
So maybe violet reminds me of ageing too, but this time it’s the happy kind of ageing. The kind that involves hugs from grandparents and hand-written recipes passed down through generations.
I wish I’d bought more.
* Is it just me, or does this sound like the voice-over for a B-grade horror movie trailer? “No one knew what dangers could lurk beneath the wrappings of a simple chocolate bar… Until Now.”