Claudio Corallo Chocolates

We finally meet- the much lauded chocolate from Claudio Corallo. Praised from chocolate doyen Chloé Doutre Russel to armies of chocophile bloggers, these bars were lovingly crafted in the far distant corner of Sao Tome e Principe. While artisan bean-to-bar chocolate makers have proliferated in the past decade, those that actually grow the beans is a rare group. Corallo has suffered malaria thrice working in the equatorial heat of his plantation, but he is quite undeterred in his pursuit of creating the best bar in the world aided by his entire family.  Corallo's production is apparently so finicky that they hand remove the bitter germ of the cacao- something you could not do in the West due to prohibitive labor costs.

I selected four bars- 70%, 73.5%, 80%,  and a 100% along with a Ubric #1 which has drunken raisins infused in the distillation of the of cacao pulp shown above. The bar's are rustic and unevenly thin giving a more wild and untamed feeling to the bar.

So how is the final result?  This perhaps may be one of the few non-gushing review of Corallo to be found on the internet.  The bars are extremely well done but I found the taste somewhat mild and the bass notes on the 75% and 80% did not hold my attention. The cacao nibs on the 73.5% had a lovely nuttiness.  Corallo bars are from a "heirloom" forastero and despite all the perfection and care given,  the bean variety I humbly think lacks the native complexity of a criollo.  For those not acquainted- cacao comes from three main varieties

• criollo - the rarest original cacao, less than 1-5% of the world production, and is a low yielding variety holds the most depth and complexity. 
• forastero- hardy robust breed that comprises the bulk of the world's production and tend to have lower ceilings of flavor more like a merlot grape. One of the rare exceptions would be Arriba bean (Nacional) from Ecuador and Republica del Cacao makes toothsome arriba bars at a great price ($3-5).  
• trinitario - hybrid of the two, they often get used as flavor components of a bar.  Rio Caribe and Carenero from Venezuela are the most commonly available trinitarios  at bay area grocery stores.  San Francisco's Amourette makes a worthwhile 100% Carenero Supreme bar ($5-6). Trinitario bars from Trinidad where they first hybridized are harder to find and you may have to go to chocolate shops like Fog City.

From a chocolate vendor site  http://www.chocolatiers.co.uk/products/claudio-corallo-100, we find this quote: 

He(Corallo) has stated "Good chocolate is not necessarily a problem of variety," he says. "It is a problem of work."  

Corallo likens chocolate to great wine and while pretty good bars can be made from forastero, I don't think the greatest wines can be made from merlot grapes no matter how much the vinter has exacted his or her magic. 


There are criollo bars I've loved- Chuao and Porcelana where I was simply enthralled- such bar short circuit my thinking.  Porcelana is like a fine Yiwu with high notes.  These Corallo bars are some of the most expensive I've procured and for $12.50 for 50g, I want criollo/trinitario-like depth and complexity. Corallo has to realize that he's not competing with Lindt but all the other high end artisan chocolate makers like Amedei, Domori, Rogue, and my favorite Amano.  My current favorite is Amano's Dos Rios($7 for 2oz) which is of unknown variety but has a intriguing natural bergamot taste to the bean.

I love plenty of non-criollo bars that are a fraction of the cost. I'll have to save them up for a post on delicious budget chocolate. For example, Santander for $2.75 is pretty fabulous.   My husband was not impressed with Corallo and stated he preferred San Francisco made Dandelion over Corallo but I'm not a Dandelion chocolate fan but I love their cakes.

For sheer enjoyability and mindless deliciousness (besides my all time favorite Taza bars), I tuck into a Majani bar. Majani bills itself as "the first chocolatier in the world to make a chocolate bar" and they still do a fine bar that is very accessible.

I am reminded of a post from Mattcha about a lone Korean monk who cultivates only a few tea bushes. I was so taken in by the poetic image of the monk picking tea leaves that I almost whipped out my credit card to get some. But Matt honestly revealed at the end of the post that the tea turned out to be not that interesting.