Slittiâ€™s bars almost have an artificial or plastic-like appearance, perfectly molded with hardly any defects, deep saturated color, and a luminosity that resembles polished glass. And Amazzonia is no exception, shining vividly and darkly, cast in a rich ochre coat that is easy to see. The aroma, however, is of an entirely different breed, decidedly ashy and burnt, indicative of burning wood courtesy of careless over-roasting. Raspberries and coconut play a part, too, but with such a prominence on ash, the flavor can’t possibly promise good things.
Under this presumption, one is not disappointed. The flavor continuously offers ash and burnt wood for the entirety of the length, confirming major problems in the roast that were mysteriously overlooked. Bitter, too, there is virtually nothing to praise until an inkling of hopeâ€”blackberries, peaches, and hints of the fermentâ€”emerge but lose prominence due to their lack of intensity and short-lived presence.
One look at the texture may shed some light on the problem. It has a body thatâ€™s as substantial as water, and a length thatâ€™s averse to long-term commitment. This makes for a very creamy and smooth melt that in a lower-percentage bar would be ideal but not at this high level where thickness is desired. Given the success of Slittiâ€™s other 90% bars, one would assume that Amazzonia would be of equally high if not higher quality due to origin of the beans. Unfortunately, however, this simply is not the case, and one is left with a chocolate that not only falls short of expectations, but also fails to connect the taster with a true sense of what a 90% Venezuelan can deliver.