Friday, March 16, 2018

NutWhats: Ocumare 92% Cacao

Following up with a second bar from local chocolate and candy company NutWhats, this week we have their Ocumare 92% Cacao bar. How could I resist getting a 92%? Such a higher percentage ends up being a test to use for categorizing companies--and when the style of a bar in the lower 90% range aligns with my tastes, this can be one of my favorite cocoa percentages.

We have the same style of packaging this time, just with a different pattern and purple foil instead of red. Using this colorful foil and this type of paper then allows for endless possibilities of looks that will all still be recognizable and distinct. While the label does mention that this cocoa is sourced from the Ocumare de la Costa Valley in northern Venezuela, there is nothing this time about the cocoa being fair trade or organic. Unless we just don't have official labels for this one (which is possible), then those traits don't apply here (it would be nicest if they did).

The color is darker for this bar than it was for the other. While the aroma is deeper, as well, this one, interestingly, doesn't have that bitter twinge. The initial hit on the tongue, though, is bitter (and floral). The strong bitterness is reminiscent of Lindt's 99% Cocoa bar, of which I was never a fan. Past the halfway point, the flavor does get a little warmer and mellower. The flavor notes are plum, strawberry, and caramel. I don't catch all of that. A general berry flavor, which is similar to plum, perhaps, but strawberry? No. And caramel? Generally that's a sweeter flavor note, usually for milk chocolate; I don't pick up any caramel here.

Naturally, of course, if you move on to a second bite, your mouth will already be attuned to the flavors, so the bitterness will be almost completely gone. Yet still I find this chocolate either too dark or just not in the right style for me. Mainly I find it only to have a very dark chocolate flavor, which isn't what I like from a 92%. I like for high percentage chocolate to lure me and coax me and romance me, and that just isn't what the flavor here does.

They did get the texture right, though, I must mention. Texture can start falling apart when you start getting into high cocoa percentages if you're not careful, and yet this bar has the same type of smoothness that the lighter bar had. It doesn't have that almost crumbly texture that Lindt's 99%, for instance, has (granted, 99% is higher than 92%).

I'm left to conclude here that the style of this bar just wasn't my style. Give it a try if you like to flirt with bitterness; otherwise I would suggest staying with the lower cocoa percentages like the Peruvian 82% from last week.

Wednesday, March 14, 2018

Light and Dark

The radio was playing some snippets of interviews with singer Mandisa--and I just found the way that she phrased things to be reminiscent of things that I have realized about myself, as well. Sorry that I can't give exact quotes here, but she said something to the effect of being right on the line between being an extrovert and an introvert, that she needs alone time and time around people, and that sometimes too much alone time can be destructive for her. Again, I'm paraphrasing.

That is exactly what I've realized, too. There was a time when I thought, I can't live alone, I don't trust myself to be alone for that long. Bad things can happen in my head when I'm alone for too long. Maybe we're all like that; how do we know if we don't share it with others? The thing is, sometimes the alone time fades when you're around other people--and so you don't share what happened when you were alone because that time doesn't exist anymore.

When you're alone, you're the only one who can recognize and stop destructive thoughts in their tracks. That's what I've been realizing lately: there are so many lines of thought that you need to put to an end before they even begin. With so many things, just don't even go there. And when you're alone, you need also to remember that you're not alone--and that puts an entirely different angle on things. Rather than looking at your time not being around people as the alone time, it's your time with God. That changes things, doesn't it? It becomes easier to see those negative thoughts coming and it becomes easier to experience positive thoughts.

I need to spend time around people. There's this unifying feeling of being around others and realizing what we all have to offer that feeds a part of your mind and makes the world feel like a place full of shining lights.

But what about when something happens to make you cower, to make you not want to go out among all the people because they're not shining lights anymore, they're spears jabbing out at you in accusation, waiting for you to fall down?

You breathe and you pray and you don't cary that burden of fear. How many burdens do we carry without even realizing it? How many of us are walking around so weighted down without even realizing it? We don't need to carry all of that; we can lay those burdens down at the throne. And then?

You're back at that alone time thing of stopping destructive thoughts in their tracks, except this time you're doing so while you're around people instead of just while you're alone. Don't let what is good (in this case, interacting with other people) be taken from you. Don't listen to lies (there's another song that's on the radio right now: "fear, he is a liar"). Move forward, not backward. And remember that even if you do fail, all you can do is keep moving onward. We're all trying to improve all the time, anyways, right? So bear that in mind instead of acting beaten just because one thing didn't go over well.

Don't let yourself be destroyed.

Tuesday, March 13, 2018

The Barber of Seville

What a grand old time of randomness Arizona Opera's production of The Barber of Seville was last weekend. There I was thinking oh, maybe Rossini's style isn't my favorite (I find I like Puccini's style more) and maybe I like the dramas more than the comedies (the dramas are all about violence and sadness and so they are very exciting). But this was much fun and in many ways fell in a completely different vein from Rossini's Cinderella last year.

I've read The Barber of Seville, of course, and we're all familiar with a bit of the music of this opera ("Figaro, Figaro, Figaro," sound familiar to you?); maybe that also helped. And it was kind of one of those shows where you didn't even need to be following along with every plot point or understanding all the intricacies of what's going on with the music, etc. to just have a grand time watching.

Even with a fairly large setting like Symphony Hall, this production had the performers coaxing the audience to spur them on. I hadn't realized that the aforementioned "Figaro" tune is sung by Figaro himself (he's basically singing about how he's awesome, so it's quite funny to have those lyrics along with that tune). So Joo Won Kang basically came on the stage and said, oh, don't you love me, audience? And everyone did. Things like that.

In general, too, there was this sense sometimes of, I don't know what I'm watching but it isn't what people think of as being the opera, is it? I thought I didn't like comedies as much, but this comedy of randomness definitely caught me up. And this time I liked Rossini's music with the lyrics and plot; I didn't feel that disconnect between the two that I felt with Cinderella. This time I felt like the grand and bouncy (is bouncy the right word?) feeling of the music went well with the randomness of the plot.

I did regret right away when glancing at the program that I came on a night when Katrina Galka and Anthony Ciaramitaro weren't there; they're beginning to feel like old friends after seeing them at Aria Jukebox and at different productions. And they must have been great as Rosina and Count Almaviva. (Not to say anything against Stephanie Lauricello and David Margulis, though, of course.) I did get to see Zachary Owen as Don Basilio, Jarrett Porter as Fiorello, and Stephanie Sanchez as Berta, though, so there were still familiar faces (or voices?).

Alright, then, another famous opera tackled. Have you ever watched The Barber of Seville live? I tell you, opera is a pretty awesome form of art entertainment.

Friday, March 9, 2018

NutWhats: Peruvian 82% Cacao

At long last, I have arrived at another of our local bean to bar chocolate makers. NutWhats is based out of Chandler, which is on sort of the northeastern side of the greater Phoenix area for those of you out-of-staters. One reason why it took me so long to get to this company was that I initially had the impression that they just made candy. Their name sounds like a candy maker rather than a chocolate maker, and their website just talks about their candy, as well. But if you visit their table at the farmer's market or any other event, you will find plenty about their chocolate bars, as well.

How does one choose two chocolate bars to look at from a full line? Randomly, of course, how else? Otherwise I just keep getting Madagascar bars from everyone--and while Madagascar-sourced cocoa is quite nice, also it is nice to regularly try other types of chocolate as well, right?

So we're starting off with the Peruvian 82% Cacao bar. The back of the wrapping tells me that this cocoa is both organic and fairly traded, so thumbs up there. Speaking of that wrapping, it has quite a singular look, doesn't it? The outer wrapper is like an extra thick piece of tracing paper with that bold pattern on it; underneath, the foil is just as bold in a bright red color instead of the more traditional shades of gold or silver. In a world of sleek and couture-looking chocolate wrappings, something like this definitely brings in a memorable edge.

After everything that was going on with the outside, the bar itself is plain in its look. Its aroma comes with a bitter twinge. Initially, however, it tastes sweet and falls smooth on the tongue. The twinge bitterness does return as a flavor for a moment before fading away into that sweeter side again. I found the flavors not quite fruity or earthy, possibly something like banana. (The tasting notes do list banana, strawberry, and mango.) It's surprisingly mild for an 82%; you don't even get any of that bitter twinge once you come around to the second piece. Granted, there aren't too many flavor notes here; mainly this is a nice solid chocolate sense. And that's what some people like best.

Sometimes I hesitate to approach chocolate bars like this from a company that mainly markets candy. Candy is one thing and chocolate is another, so only so many people can do both well at the same time. Usually the chocolate ends up being mediocre. This Peruvian bar, however, delivers a nice classic chocolate vibe.

Wednesday, March 7, 2018

The Disney Boys: Part 8 - Quasimodo

Click to read my introduction to this series, Part 1Part 2Part 3Part 4Part 5Part 6, and Part 7.

I don't entirely know how Disney managed to make 1994's The Hunchback of Notre Dame a G-rated movie. Following off of The Lion King's Hamlet themes, this film took on Victor Hugo's quite serious novel. It shows Frollo creeping after Esmeralda, Frollo almost drowning a baby, Frollo setting a house on fire with a whole family inside, the crowd tying up Quasimodo at the Festival of Fools, etc. I don't say this as a criticism; in fact, I admire the fact that Disney managed to make a G movie while still including all of this (and people say that Disney doesn't show the dark side of life). That was quite a feat--and when I watch this movie, I start to wonder why I don't usually think to add it to my top Disney films. 

But we're supposed to be focused on just one character here, right? And therein probably lies the reason why, despite being such a good film, there isn't much Hunchback merchandise available at the Disney Store. The protagonist is Quasimodo, the "half-formed," the "monster," the one so "hideous" that the world can't accept him. While the Disney princesses are all supposed to be beautiful and even the Disney boys, if their physical looks are mentioned, are generally understood to be good-looking, as well. So the fact that Quasimodo is intentionally "not easy on the eyes" is different and great--even if it means that we really are materialistic because nobody buys Quasimodo merch.

The film sets up deep themes beautifully, right from the start. Clopin sings about the riddle of "who is the monster and who is the man." Though Quasimodo has the rough exterior that Frollo says no one will accept (and in most cases, he's kind of right) and Frollo is the one "accepted" by society because he's a public official, Quasimodo is the one with a good exterior and Frollo is not. If you didn't get the theme in Beauty and the Beast about physical appearances not mattering, you get it now. 

The first time we see Quasimodo's face is when he is reaching out into the light and speaking gently to the baby bird, helping him to fly. So even though we've been warned that his face won't look "normal," we see that he is a kind person. 

He's also obedient. He trusts Frollo to a certain degree and he tries to listen and obey (he's afraid to defy him by going to the Festival) because he wants to be content in his lot and repay Frollo for rescuing him. Their relationship isn't entirely unlike Rapunzel and Mother Gothal. Gothal similarly tells Rapunzel that she wouldn't be able to survive in the world outside; both figures are just using their charges while keeping them in line with threats disguised as love and care.

The interesting thing about Quasimodo's desire to leave his tower is that it isn't self-centered. When he looks down at the city, he notices every person in it. He notices enough details about them to carve them all, recognizably, out of wood. He doesn't want to go out there to see what he can be; he wants to go out there to meet all of them and be with all of them. Think about it. Even in his tower, he does his best to interact with the statues and the birds and the bells, to give them names and identities and to look after their needs. This is why, when he gets pulled into the plight of the gypsies, he chooses to help them. 

I'll take a moment here to point out that, while his face may not be what the world looks for, Quasimodo is as fit as any other Disney gent, right up there with Tarzan and Wreck-It Ralph (maybe Hercules has them all beat since he's, you know, a god). So used to swinging around taking care of the bells, he can leap from rooftops, too, even while carrying Esmeralda and her goat. And he so easily bests Phoebus, lifting him up off the ground without even realizing it. While we may not have control over what our faces look like (well, assuming plastic surgery doesn't exist), we do have control over the fitness of our bodies (well, assuming no conditions or illnesses that would prevent this--and I admit there are quite a few). 

Quasimodo finally realizes that Frollo really has been lying to him when he sees the shadow of the knife on the wall. And it is so easy for him to get the better of Frollo, this man who has held him down for twenty years. All he had to do was say no, you have no power over me and I won't let you get away with this any longer. And he doesn't go at Frollo with revenge exactly, either: it is Frollo who, in saying his line about expunging the wicked, sentences himself to the justice of his death. 

And what Quasimodo comes out of this whole experience with is more kindness and graciousness. Even though he liked Esmeralda, he sees that she likes Phoebus and not him and that Phoebus likes her; so Quasimodo puts their hands together, telling them that it's okay, he's happy to see that his two new friends are happy together. He's just glad to have made friends outside of the tower for once; he knows that there are more important things than "getting the girl." (And if you watch the sequel, which isn't half-bad for a sequel, he does get the girl, though of course it isn't Esmeralda.) 

When the city cheers for Quasimodo and what he has done to help the people, their cheers show that looks no longer matter. They don't see his face anymore; they see his face, that is the face of the person who has done good for them. The inside works its way out--and that is what you wear on your face, whether you are considered "beautiful" or not. Especially with our current society love of considering ourselves beautiful (I get that you shouldn't believe that you're ugly and that you should have a positive self-esteem, but there is too much obsession with physical appearance and self-love), I greatly admire this theme of placing the emphasis back on the actions. So even if Quasimodo would probably never win as the favorite Disney character (would anyone name his as their favorite?), he might actually be the best one, in the sense of the whole role model thing that we're looking at in these two series of posts. 

Monday, March 5, 2018

Insanity in Light Green

"We're all mad here." *

I am the one in green. 

At the store, you will see me trailing behind my shopping cart while wearing green tights and a grey dress.

At Symphony Hall, you'll see me seated while wearing green sequins covered in lace. 

At the Renaissance Festival, I'll be there in a green dress, too, this time finding a green hat to buy, as well. 

And at home? There I'll try on my Victorian green dress to see if it still fits me a decade later. Yes, it does--so I shall have to find somewhere that I can wear it to again. 

I am the one in green, and being random is fun. 

*Alice in Wonderland