Impact
When the Persians at Thermopylae warned that their arrows will block out the sun, Leonidas countered “then we shall have our battle in the shade”. His Spartan soldiers must’ve ate stuff like this to acclimate themselves to combat. Gird yourself before fighting this foe by conquering yourself first: a slab of bloody uncooked meat, with a slice of unsweetened rhubarb pie on the side. Will-power required; not the kind of MRE rations for poodle-men - at all. Stands in tall, dense, & concentrated, then grows to fulminate without completely raging out of control or losing structure – no small victory for a bean close to rolling over the edge.
Appearance 4.8 / 5
| Color: | red copper brown |
| Surface: | granite |
| Temper: | brilliant high-gloss |
| Snap: | excellent - low in the pocket |
Aroma 8.1 / 10
damp & dark: mulched wood (oak) & spice (vanilla/clove) along side Domori’s signature ferment (in this case light reds) verging on liqueur; soft rubdown brings soft cheese (St. Andres)
Mouthfeel 15 / 15
| Texture: | tighly voluptuous |
| Melt: | a necklace plunging down the bosom |
Flavor 34.6 / 50
ramrods the aromatics (oak & clove) -> the expected S-d-Lago fruit but here only slight red on a mite plum followed-on by mamey sapote, underscored & amplified w/ trace alcohol -> vanilla almond against mounting, though (momentarily) tolerable, bitterness... as more reds permeate now, but only at the edges -> oaken hits jam the gut into copper & iron; gets thug beefy – lots of muscle, cartiledge, & calcified bone... accompanied by black olive & raw wood-ear mushroom + rhubarb -> flickering nutmeat (this time hazelnut) ‘n cream appear as faint light contrasting in dense, embittered vapors & their interminable hang-time -> finish comes in mighty cacáo flashes - a strip-tease act of what could be but, alas, ain’t
Quality 17 / 20
Yes, close to the edge. Unadulterated & virtually untreated; about as near to raw food as refined chocolate gets. Far from wild, the flavors in this bar are cataloged in humanity’s cookery but at such an undressed, naked level that the familiar is re-introduced as strange again – in practically every aspect. Like much of his Cru 100 line, Domori lays down a very light roast on his preferred ferment, then relies on conching to flesh out the contour.