The large format makes this chocolate rather forbidding, at least for plain eating, but in appearance it’s excellent, well moulded, excellently tempered (with that unusual flat finish that Domori is known for) and with a good, light, neutral-brown colour. On pure visual inspection the bar has great appeal.
Aroma is a bit more problematic. Characteristic of Domori, it’s pungent and powerful, clove and cinnamon arresting the nose, then beefy and teak components coming in. It’s true to type; Papua New Guinea is characteristically spicy and pungent, but here veers towards heavy-handed, like accidentally adding a tablespoon of cinnamon to a cake where the recipe called for a teaspoon.
Notwithstanding the stumbling start, the flavour breaks from the blocks well, coming out with nice strawberry and grape fruitiness. It doesn’t take long, however, for the underlying tobacco and leather character of the bean to make itself known, a distinctive hallmark if there ever was one. Later the flavour drifts, becoming flatter with woody and cocoa appearing prominently, dying perhaps a bit on the early side. Interesting flavours to be sure, but where is the harmony?
As always, though, Domori is splendid with the texture, it being almost perfectly smooth, dense and ultra-creamy. Here, however, a slightly less immaculate texture wouldn’t harm, complementing the somewhat rough-and-ready flavour. And this is the defining impression of Papuandar. It’s got lots of interest, lots of potential, but seems unrefined and imbalanced, wobbling on the one side towards greatness and on the other towards chaos. If there were a case to put to Domori for a longer conch on its chocolates, this would be it, for more prolonged processing would certainly smooth the rough edges. Still, a chocolate worth trying, but be sure to be in an experimental frame of mind.
