She inhaled the rich chocolate fragrance first, detecting the notes of roasted cocoa and orange easily, and then placed the bite in her mouth. The dark chocolate of the brownie saturated her tongue first as she let it sit there for four to five seconds like she would for a regular chocolate tasting, and the burst of orange came through just before she chewed delicately. “I’m not sure about the mouthfeel of the orange peel, Clifton. I wonder about using Grand Marnier instead.”
He took his time answering. Clifton never rushed the full sensory experience of a tasting. He was like a sommelier that way. “Orange liqueur might offset the mouthfeel issue, but I’m not sure how well the flavor would come through in a confection this dense. It would be a waste to put a great liqueur in a brownie, if you ask me. The taste will largely be baked out. It’s different with truffles. You can add it to the milk for the ganache, and it stands up fairly well. The acidity of the champagne made it a bit tricky, but I believe I have addressed the chemistry adequately.”
That was an understatement. Alice might have snuck a few samples when he was making more chocolate ganache. “We have a better stock of liqueurs and hard liquor than most restaurants by now, so I think we can at least experiment. I managed to find that French violet liqueur you wanted, by the way, although I still think it’s too floral for our market here.”
The marketing and pricing was her domain largely, but they worked together on the menu. Opening a shop was an experiment in learning the community’s chocolate preferences. They wanted to cater to what people wanted while also becoming a trusted source for trying something new, like Clifton’s French violet truffle. It was going to be a process.
“I thought we might consider a truffle collection called ‘The Sophisticated,’” Clifton said, “along with some other uncommon flavors for the holidays. Like persimmon.”
Yuck.
“I think I’ll stick to the champagne ones.”
“Did I detect a wince of displeasure?”
“I like persimmons’ orange color, but I strongly detest their mushy tomato weirdness.”
“Their mushy tomato weirdness.” He laughed briefly, because Clifton still hadn’t unraveled enough to belly laugh. “Alice, you have a colorful way of describing objects.”
She thought about Hank telling her she’d made him laugh—and talk—that night, something only his best friend usually did. Gosh, she went mushy when she thought about it. Knowing that, she’d been gleeful every time she’d asked him how he was doing or texted him a meme, especially her favorite Hey Girl! Ryan Gosling one on dating: Why don’t I come back to your house after our date and wash all your dishes? His LOL response had been precious.
Of course, she’d sent that meme along to Warren too. He’d given her the bird emoji. Warren hated doing dishes, saying their summer chocolate stand more than proved the brilliance of paper products.
“I live for humor,” she said, cleansing her palate with one of the soda crackers that rounded out her tasting tray, followed by a swig of the room temperature water she’d brought out.
Clifton preferred to cleanse his palate with a fine English cracker. He made some tasting notes in his small black leather book before saying, “Shall we adjourn to the next brownie?”
They sampled the mint, which Alice said, “Reminds me of St. Patrick’s Day in Chicago and Notre Dame home games. Peppermint schnapps and chocolate is as common as Bailey’s and chocolate. Which I love, but not all the time.”
She wondered if Hank would like it, though. He was Irish. Hmm…
Clifton only nodded, writing notes, and then cleansed his palate before sampling the next variety, this one with a peanut butter swirl, her idea. “Incredibly rich. A difficult mouthfeel.”
Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth before she finished the sample. “It’s peanut butter, Clifton. Totally classic.”
“Not on my watch,” he said, setting his tasting fork down with his nose twitching.
“Now who’s displeased?” she joked, eager to move along to the mocha brownie she’d been dying to try.
“Experimentation hopefully leads us to more pleasant tastings, but there will be the odd experiments.”
“This from a man whose home country loves Marmite.”
“I have never once served Marmite personally,” he said, making her laugh.
He prepared himself for the next sample, but Alice was ahead of him. She didn’t even need to taste it to know she loved it. The rich chocolate and espresso aroma already had her feet dancing under the table.
“I take it we have a winner,” he commented dryly.
Clifton knew her signs by now. Chocolate tasting was a sensory experience, and the nose or mouth led the charge. Of course, what appealed to one might not appeal to another. But some things had universal appeal, and coffee and chocolate together was one of them.
Of course, Hank might like the Irish brownie better. Best bring it and the mocha one too.
“I have another brownie for you to sample,” Clifton said, rising. “Excuse me for a moment.”
When he returned with two plates, she cocked her brow at him. “Mysterious.”
She lifted the morsel and sniffed. “Oh my! Chili powder. I was wondering what that smell in the kitchen was. I was afraid you were testing saffron.” Because, pricy…
“Not yet,” Clifton said, “but I experimented with a few other Mexican flavors. See what you think.”
This time he didn’t partake. Only waited to see her reaction. She forked up her sample and immediately let out a yawp. “Walt Whitman approved! My God, Clifton. This is a surprise. I don’t know about Hank liking it, but I sure as hell plan to make these for myself.”
“I am glad you liked this sample. It is my favorite. There is surprise and elegance to the flavors unmatched in the other brownies.”
“What you said! On to the champagne truffles.”
She cleansed her palate and reached for the small truffle plate, arranged horizontally in front of Clifton. “Only you would be so exacting as to select four distinct champagnes from the region.”
“Gladys said she wanted champagne truffles. I plan to give her the best.”
That was Clifton. Her tasting notes for the first three were similar. “I love them, but the pear and apple notes in the champagnes you selected don’t hold up well.”
Accustomed to her “honest tasting utterances,” as he called them, Clifton gave an answering mmm. “Try the last one.”
She did and uttered an immediate moan. “Oh. My. God. Clifton! What is this?”
Giving her a satisfied smile, he said, “As I expected. This is the one, I believe.”
She was tempted to rush to the kitchen to eat a couple more. “Yes! I want it on the set menu. Which champagne did you use? This is perfectly balanced and more decadent than any of the others. No holds barred.”
“In a moment, Alice,” he said, closing his eyes in pure enjoyment.
“If only Clara and Arthur could see you now… Wait, I’ll grab my phone and take a—”
“That won’t be necessary,” he said, opening his eyes again and giving her an imperial look.
“Well, this truffle will go perfectly with the Aztec hot chocolate I have planned,” she said, knowing contrasting flavors brought a balance in overall taste. “One is light and acidic and the other spicy. The perfect pairing. So what champagne is it?”