Ganache Quotes

“From the trolley, he picked up a chocolate, rolled in cacao powder. 'These are ganache truffles,' he said. 'The easiest chocolates to make. Even a child can make them. Even Mahmed could, probably.'
I took one. It smelt of darkness infused with gold; a scent that both drew and repelled me.
'I don't really like dark chocolate,' I said.
'Just try one. I made them myself, from bean to bar. Nothing artificial.'
I bit a piece from the chocolate. It was bitter and powdery, but there were other flavors there, struggling to be released.
'Rest it on your tongue for a while. Eyes closed. Mouth half open.'
I did as he said. The bitter scent started to intensify. It's odd; I didn't quite like it, and yet it was evocative. I can taste charcoal, and nutmeg, and salt, and olive, and strong wild honey. It makes me think of incense, and woodsmoke on a frosty night, and the scent of fallen leaves in the rain, and the memory of that night in the church, the warmth of the confessional.
I thought I didn't like chocolate. In fact, I never knew it. Those little squares of chocolate I'd had as a child were nothing like this.
'I know. It's different,' he said. 'It's eighty per cent cacao. It might taste a little bitter to you, but that's the nature of cacao: the stuff you get in the shops here is really mostly sugar and palm oil and fat. But this is the soul of the cacao bean. This strength. This bitter potency. And in this form, it has a kick. It sharpens the mind. Gives energy.'
I put the rest of the chocolate aside. My mouth was furred with darkness.”
― Joanne Harris, Vianne