The color blind life can be challenging. I can remember struggling with colors since a young age, receiving criticism from my teachers for coloring the grass orange and pumpkins green in my coloring book – even though that’s what I actually saw. My inability to properly identify many of the colors soon brought forth a dislike for multicolored objects. Even sitting through an episode of Reading Rainbow was excruciating because of all the different colors in the logo – and I love LeVar Burton!

With so much color-related difficulty in my life, you might think that I would hate such a colorful candy as M&M’s, but no. For some reason, I love the little rainbow candy-coated pieces of chocolate. Sure, I might not be able to correctly tell you which colors I’m eating, but they still taste amazing. Plus, their tiny size makes them so easy to eat! My record is 154 M&M’s in three minutes. (I’m like Takeru Kobayashi, but instead of shoving wieners in my mouth, I eat candy.)

I was pretty excited when I heard about Mars’ new M&M’s Chocolate Bar. So excited, in fact, that my inner Tommy Wise broke free, and I thought, “Oh hi, Mars. M&M’s inside my candy bar? You think about everything, ha ha ha.”

But wait – haven’t I seen this M&M’s Chocolate Bar somewhere before? Oh, that’s right. Back in 2004, Mars introduced the M-Azing chocolate bar, which was only available in peanut butter and crunchy flavors. I can vaguely recall tasting an M-Azing bar and disliking it. Let’s hope this M&M Chocolate Bar does better.

I found the M&M Chocolate Bar at my local Target in the candy bar section next to the check-out line. At a mere seventy-nine cents per bar, it seemed like a true bargain.

After removing the chocolate bar’s wrapper, I instantly noticed the imprinted design of an anthropomorphic M&M man. I don’t usually find anthropomorphic creatures on my candy bars, so this was a pleasant surprise. The chocolate bar is divided into eight sections for easy distribution among eight friends. Or if you’re like me and don’t have any friends, you’ll have to distribute the eight pieces to the various homeless men who follow you home from work everyday.

The brightly colored mini M&M’s can be seen peeking through the chocolate, giving the bar a subtle rainbow appearance. When compared to more commonly purchased chocolate such as the Hershey Bar, the M&M’s Chocolate Bar’s smell is a bit more rich and powerful, but the scent is pleasant nonetheless.

After taking my first bite of the M&M Chocolate Bar, I was surprised that the M&M’s contributed significantly less crunch than I expected. Since the M&M’s are the mini variety, they don’t add much texture to the bar. In fact, I found it pretty difficult to distinguish the M&M’s from the normal chocolate part of the bar while chewing. Everything blends together into one chocolatey mass.

Unfortunately, the chocolate used in the bar isn’t the best. It’s super sweet, almost too rich, and the M&M’s give it a somewhat chalky texture. Furthermore, it left a funny aftertaste and a strange feeling in my throat after eating all eight pieces.

Perhaps if Mars had used a higher quality chocolate in their new M&M’s Chocolate Bar, I might be a bit more of a fan. Although it’s super inexpensive, there are other chocolate bars on the market I would prefer to purchase. The M&M’s found inside of the bar fail to enhance the already unsatisfying chocolate base. Maybe if the M&M’s Chocolate Bar magically cured colorblindness, I’d consider purchasing it again, but next time, I’ll be passing this one by in the supermarket.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 bar – 220 calories, 110 calories from fat, 12 grams of total fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 15 milligrams of cholesterol, 30 milligrams of sodium, 27 grams of total carbohydrates, 1 grams of dietary fiber, 26 grams of sugars, and 3 grams of protein.)

Other Milk Chocolate M&M’s Chocolate Bar reviews:
Candy Blog

Item: Milk Chocolate M&M’s Chocolate Bar
Purchased Price: 79 cents
Size: 1.5 oz.
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Super cheap. Pleasant chocolatey scent. Awesome anthropomorphic M&M man imprint. References to Tommy Wiseau.
Cons: Low quality chocolate. M&M’s blend in with the rest of the bar. Funny aftertaste. Doesn’t cure color blindness.

If you say Baltimore, I think crab cakes and pit beef. If you say Memphis, I can already smell the BBQ. And if you mention chocolate, I’m transported to Hershey Park and that hokey but lovable chocolate factory ride. Well, unless you’re talking about the chocolate in the new Limited Edition Kellogg’s Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory Chocolatey Almond cereal, in which case, I’d be at a complete loss for association without a little background research.

According to both commenters on this site and the back of the cereal box, it turns out the Colorado-based chocolatier is kind of a big freaking deal. The box sings all kinds of praise for the company, talking up “traditional methods” and “premium ingredients,” while using familiar buzz words like “premier” and “gourmet.” Basically, this is a company billing itself to be the Rolls Royce of chocolate, so you’d think that if they were going to team up with Kellogg’s to craft a chocolate flavored cereal, they might, you know, actually include chocolate in it.

Wrong.

Those of you familiar with Kellogg’s cereal have probably run across “chocolatey” cereals before. Like Special K’s Chocolatey Delight, the Rocky Mountain Chocolatey Almond Cereal feature chocolate-flavored squares that lack the legal definition of what chocolate is — cocoa butter. Made up instead of partially hydrogenated oil, sugar, and something called PGPR, the squares looks like chocolate, but they’re not chocolate.

Sneaky, I know.

But frankly, as long as it tastes like chocolate I don’t care if it’s made out of Brussels sprout powder, I just want something I can pass off as breakfast, but feel like I’m get dessert.

Opening the box up, I’m immediately greeted by an aroma similar to Cocoa Pebbles. There are sweetened corn flakes and what looks like a version of Chocolate Frosted Flakes. Both are well represented, but I’m struck by the sheer amount of the chocolate-but-not-really-chocolate chunks. 

The cocoa-coated flakes taste a lot like those in Chocolate Frosted Flakes, meaning, unfortunately, they taste a lot like corn, sugar, and a wee bit of cocoa powder. They’re fine, I guess, but I find myself more drawn to the golden flakes. There’s a delectable and light honey flavor to them with a touch of malt syrup, making them more interesting than your standard frosted flakes and giving them a crispy but lickable mouthfeel. They reminded me fondly of two of my favorite discontinued cereals, Frosted Flakes Gold and Corn Flakes Touch of Honey.

I considered the flakes to be the high point, because the chocolate is a major disappointment, especially when eaten dry. The squares hardly taste like anything, lacking any richness or even sweetness. If the Rocky Mountains are to represent the pinnacle of chocolate confectionary, this was, I suppose, something produced in Death Valley. 

I didn’t enjoy the cereal very much as a dry snack, but felt it much improved in organic whole milk. Of course, that’s cheating a bit considering most cereal boxes try to goad you into pouring skim milk on your cereal by listing nutrition facts with added skim milk, but if you ask me, you might as well be pouring water on cereal.

Anyways, the cocoa-coated flakes take on a nice malted milk flavor with a smooth taste, while the glazed corn flakes taste of honey and cream. Unfortunately, the “chocolate flavored pieces” still suck. I had hoped they might take on a sort of milk chocolate texture with added milk, but instead they turn into a vaguely cocoa-flavored, marshmallow-type square that tastes like what I assume dehydrated chocolate is like (although, having never gone into outer space myself, I gladly defer to any NASA experts on this matter.)

For good measure and in the interest of fairness I made sure to go back for a bowl in skim milk, finding, as expected, any richness gained from the whole milk to be gone, and the complete spoonful to be lacking.

Aside from being majorly disappointment in the chocolate, the cereal failed to also deliver a punch when it came to the almonds. Sliced small and thin, I suppose they add a nice touch on the cover art, but I didn’t notice them much while eating the cereal both dry and in milk. A damn, damn shame.

Even though the honey-glazed flakes of Kellogg’s Rocky Mountain Chocolate Company Chocolatey Almond Cereal reminded me of two of my favorite discontinued cereals, it’s still a major disappointment. Failing to deliver actual chocolate is bad enough given that the cereal is supposed to represent one of the country’s top artisan chocolatiers, but offering only meager almond and mild cocoa flavor puts it below other Kellogg’s chocolate cereals, like Krave and Frosted Mini-Wheats Chocolate Little Bites.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 cup – 210 calories, 35 calories from fat, 4 gram of fat, 2 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat*, 0.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1.5 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 200 milligrams of sodium, 90 milligrams of potassium, 42 grams of carbohydrates, 1 grams of fiber, 18 grams of sugar, 3 grams of protein, and some vitamins and minerals.)

*made with partially hydrogenated oil

Item: Kellogg’s Limited Edition Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory Chocolatey Almond Cereal
Purchased Price: $3.49
Size: 11.5 oz. box
Purchased at: Wegman’s
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Delectable and light honey flavored flakes which remind of Frosted Flakes Gold and Corn Flakes Touch of Honey. Really good cocoa flake taste and crunch in whole milk. Limited Edition box to add to the collection. Spending time Googling food additive acronyms and feeling all Bill Nye the Science Guy because of it.
Cons: Fake chocolate tastes nothing like actual chocolate. Almonds get lost in the shuffle. Overall cocoa flavor is weak when eaten dry. Eating cereal in skim milk.

Well, it’s about time!

How refreshing to find somebody taking a stab at an Irish creme-flavored somethin’-or-other for St. Patty’s Day. Green food coloring? Snooze. Artificial mint extract? Been there, clogged that artery.

But whiskey, creme, and cocoa, all wrapped up in a pillow of cakey dough? Now that’s a breakfast of bold hooligans. Bold hooligans like you and me, so, with the blood of my Irish ancestors pulsing through my wee little veins, I dodged my regular glazed cake and nabbed this fella.

Yes, indeedy, that is my vessel of morning justice. Oval-esque and a bit wonky, it reminds me of Gilly, the pet rock I had as a child. Fortunately, unlike a pet rock, this is edible, coated in sugar, and won’t get lost in a tragic river rafting accident.

Now, to dive in…

The cake, which was fresh from the fryer, is puffy enough, if a little dry and tasteless, but I’m accustomed to that in a Dunkin’ do[ugh]nut. Now, to counteract that, there resides plenty of this beige, Irish-creme-like palm oil goo, which fills about 1/3 of the cake’s interior, but, like the mutagen that created the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, this goo can be used for creation…or destruction.

They say love blinds a person. If that’s true, someone loves sweetness in the Dunkin’ Donuts testing facilities because, holy bag of potatoes, Batman, the creme’s definitely sweet, which is a good thing in that it adds some sense of flavor, but I fear it also might make my great grandmother rise from her Irish grave and knock me right in the cake-hole fer consumin’ a product that defies all them laws of what Irish creme should be!

“But grandma!” I’d say, “This particular interpretation of Irish creme focuses on the beverage’s sharp condensed milk flavor!” She would then argue that there’s very little dimension to counteract that flavor, like cocoa or espresso or whiskey. On this, she would be right: where’s the whiskey? I demand whiskey in my palm oil!

However, if I put my expectations of Irish creme authenticity aside, the filling tastes okay. Like vanilla pudding and Cool Whip mixed with a hint of coffee medicine from some sort of Kahlúa flavoring. It wants to be bitter, but just can’t help but stick to its sugary ways. A little dip in the chocolate frosting might’ve added some contrast to help this guy stand up to its fellow pudgy rounds.

I really wanted to find myself scrounging for crumbs here, but, no matter how hard I try, I just can’t finish the whole thing. Alas, this one has fallen victim to one-dimension-ness.

“Et tu, Brute?”

(A little ode to the Ides of March there)

Oh, if only it were simple to create a mass-marketed success. Innovators cast the dice, but they can never be absolutely sure about how a product will fall, and this one fell off its rocker somewhere. Is it terrible? Nope. Will I buy it again? Ehhh… I’d rather have a Girl Scout cookie.

However, while not great, I would be sad if the Irish Creme offering left forever to be replaced by some Smo-Joe green-glazed doughnut. It gets props for innovation, and, at the same time, it could use some help in the flavor department. Don’t give up on it, important people at Dunkin’. With a quick dip in a vat of glaze or a reformulation of the filling, this doughnut has potential.

(Nutrition Facts – 260 calories, 135 calories from fat, 15 grams of fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 350 milligrams of sodium, 0 milligrams of potassium, 29 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 10 grams of sugars, and 3 grams of protein.)

Item: Dunkin’ Donuts Irish Creme Donut
Purchased Price: $1.00
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Dunkin’ Donuts
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Sweet. Pudding-like filling. Plenty of filling. Cake is puffy. Not nasty. Innovative. Irish ancestors. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Gilly, my pet rock.
Cons: Too sweet at times. Bland cake. Dry cake. Wimpy powdered sugar dust. Gets boring. Absence of whiskey. The fact that “not nasty” is in the pros. The Ides of March. Being haunted by my great grandmother.

Peanuts are an afterthought to me.

A bowl of peanuts on your table is like a glorified piece of decoration, much like tacky wax fruit. It’s saying to us at a party, “Hey I sorta exist too!” as it sits amongst the bowls of potato chips and Chex mixes. They are similar to a forgotten acquaintance you met at a seminar where the relationship went as far as “…remember how drunk we were last night? Awesomesauce.”

I even think my gin martini narrows its eyes and dismisses the bowl of peanuts at the worn bar counter. Its pseudo-Asian cousin, wasabi peas, has taken their place at many watering holes. Peanuts just can’t catch a break.

The point is, I never crave peanuts, pay attention to peanuts, or think about peanuts. They are just “there” like some existential failed puzzle from Myst or a useless +1 cracked sash from Diablo I/II/III (no one counts Hellfire).

Sure I crave peanut brittle, peanut butter cups, and chilled peanut sauced noodles, but peanuts themselves? No. Never. Nein!

However, if Planters had their way they would want someone like me to stand up and notice more than Mr. Peanut’s cool monocle. Planters’ idea is to give all of us more than just the ubiquitous honey roasted variety by granting us a roasted onion and garlic variety. Yay! Planters Roasted Onion and Garlic Dry Roasted Peanuts have finally been conceived in this millennium.

I can’t think of two more common ingredients guaranteed to inject its flavors on whatever it can get its hands on. The flavors just sound complimentary. When you see garlic or onion, you know it’s not going to be subtle. They will come in, kick your chair from under you, hit on your sister, and urinate on the carpet before saying “eff-off” as they slam the door in your face.

…And with both bold flavors together, I was ready for a They Live-style street fight in my mouth combined with the piles of bodies riddled-with-bullets-climax from John Woo’s Hard Boiled.

But no, Jeff.

Instead, I got a complete collection of each crying scene from every Nicholas Sparks movie made. I was as sad as Stephen Rea’s character at the end of The Crying Game.

Upon ripping that tedious foil cap, I knew I was in for a mediocre ride to limbo. I could barely smell the onion and garlic, only the roasted peanuts. Hell, the local law enforcement drug dogs probably couldn’t pick up anything but boring old peanuts.

Like a slob, I grabbed a handful and shoveled them into my mouth. Initially, all I could taste was the ghost of scallions before the familiar heavy roast of peanuts plopped down and snuffed it out. There was a strange and unpleasant hint of grass or lawn clippings as well, but that tapered off immediately. It was even more unusual that subsequent mouthfuls lacked any garlic or onion taste at all. Now, the creaminess of the peanuts was still a nice capper but I realized this is probably the only onion and garlic flavored item that actually gets weaker with each bite.

I was annoyed the flavor was barely there. I think people vaporized from a mushroom cloud or a Kaiju attack would make more of an impression. It’s like the impact of shouting some “diss jokes” at a grizzly bear you’re about to fight.

These peanuts were not only disappointing but have created a paradox. If your intent is to get drunk on the onion and garlic flavors, you’re better off eating a spoonful of powdered garlic salt. However, if you like the taste of ordinary roasted peanuts and all that’s left on the shelf are these, then you can’t go wrong.

Planters peanuts are of good quality and that creamy texture the peanuts bring will satisfy most. There is also just the right amount of salt, which is nice. Yet, with the promise of onions and garlic not being honored, it’s no different than when the person you’ve been lusting after says, “I like you as a friend.”

(Nutrition Facts – about 39 pieces – 160 calories, 14 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 4.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 7 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 120 milligrams of sodium, 200 milligrams of potassium, 6 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, and 7 grams of protein.)

Item: Planters Roasted Onion & Garlic Dry Roasted Peanuts
Purchased Price: $2.99
Size: 16 oz. bottle
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Planters trying something new. Shouting “diss jokes” at an angry bear. Creamy texture of peanuts. Monocles. The right amount of salt. The synth opening to Boy George’s “The Crying Game.”
Cons: Planters trying something new…and failed. Eating lawn clippings. Weak flavor that becomes weaker with each handful. Getting the “I like you as a friend” bullcrap.

Some mornings, I wake up and make a list of the things I could do to be a better person:

1. Learn to play the bagpipes.
2. Engineer a machine that cures allergies.
3. Prove that a Hadamard matrix exists for every positive multiple of 4.

Somewhere down that list, I eventually land on the inevitable, “Eat more whole grains.”

Ah, yes, whole grains: the former foundation of the food pyramid (prior to its 2000 re-fashioning) and topic pressed by nutritionists, early morning talk shows, and grandmoms alike, and, well, grandma knows best. While I still love my white bread and peanut butter sandwiches, no doubt more whole grains are gonna help me live longer, so, if I find a product that fulfills my grainy requirement in the form of a baked goodie, you can bet I’m on-board.

This is where Kashi cookies came into my life. Aisle 7. Tip top shelf. There it was. In shining bold letters.

“Whole Grains”!

First, I would like to take a moment of appreciation for this packaging. Like a miniature treasure hunt, these cookies are housed in a package within a wrapper within a box and let’s face it: there is no replacement for the utter joy brought about by ripping open a box then ripping open another package. It builds that bubbling, anticipatory suspense… slowly…slowly… until…

Boom.

There it is. 8 little cookies all in a row.

Now, the gloves come off: it’s tasting time.

Well, slap me sideways and call me Cabbage McPhee. There are whole grains everywhere in this cookie. Inside each of these eight hockey-puck-shaped wonders is the dense, rocky road of Cookieland. Those classic “7 Kashi Grains” take up the majority of the cookie. The chew is a little too texturally challenging for my cookie preferences, but, if you’re a texture kid, pull out your adventure hat and hop in the Jeep Wrangler. This is an off-roadin’ cookie.

This cookie’s flavors are much like a night of good jazz improv: all the components support one another. The nuttiness of those grains plays the bass beside the almond butter while the cocoa plays the saxophone, highlighting all that roasty-toasty swing (plus, who doesn’t want to play the saxophone?). It all comes together, with the chocolate being the main highlight and a hint of salty-sweet almonds at the end.

And did I mention there are chocolate chips? There are. And they’re especially soft. And especially good after microwaving the cookie for 5 seconds. Especially good.

Each cookie packs a double-punch of almonds with both almond butter in the cookie batter and whole almonds poking out from the jagged terrain of each crumbly offering. There were no noticeable almond butter swirls, but I was cool with that. The almonds echoed enough in the flavor that I trusted there was some almond butter in there doing its job.

While these rocked on taste combination, my particular box seemed to be suffering from a “Dry and Tough” disease. (Sad face) Although it wasn’t the soft chew I was hoping for, there was something I was rather fond of that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, so I ate another while listening to Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker in hopes that a holiday musical muse might descend from above and enlighten me. It was right in the middle of the “Waltz of the Snowflakes” that I realized (with a particularly dramatic gasp): these are cakey granola bars! In cylindrical hockey-puck form!

Talk about a way to energize the mid-day snack attack: whole grains, chocolate, and a recyclable box, which, after you dispose of said receptacle at your local recycling center, will give you good karma in days to come.

Within us all rests a desire to explore, and it seems the folks at Kashi channeled that urge into a cookie. While the multiple grains befuddled my child-like taste buds, I admire Kashi for what they’re doing. They like their 7 whole grains and, by gum, they’re not about to change them for anyone. There’s something admirable in embracing who/what you are and not being afraid to hide it, no matter what the cost.

At the same time, I do believe that these cookies could benefit from a tweak to the recipe that would allow them to transform from a tough granola-bar-like product into a softer cookie-like product, and I have faith that the good people at Kashi can and will do just that. In the words of that terrible 1990s parody of Star Trek, Galaxy Quest, “Never give up. Never Surrender.”

(Nutrition Facts – 1 cookie – 130 calories, 45 calories from fat, 5 grams of fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 80 milligrams of sodium, 19 grams of carbohydrates, 4 gram of dietary fiber, 7 grams of sugars, and 3 grams of protein.)

Item: Kashi Chocolate Almond Butter Soft-Baked Cookies
Purchased Price: $2.50 (on sale)
Size: 1 box/8 cookies
Purchased at: Harris Teeter
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Chunks of chocolate. Almonds and almond butter. Whole grains. Good karma from recycling. Learning to play the bagpipes.
Cons: Tough. Dry. A bit crumbly. References to poorly made 90s movies. The re-fashioned food pyramid. Not figuring out if a Hadamard matrix exists for every positive multiple of 4.

Some folks like their brownies with a texture that’s similar to cake, while others like them dense and chewy. I’m in the latter crowd.

I say if you I want a brownie that’s a bit more spongy, go crash a child’s birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese’s and get yourself a slice of chocolate cake.

If you’re like me and enjoy chewy brownies, then Jack in the Box’s new Brownie Bites aren’t for you. Actually, if you’re a fan of any kind of brownies, then Jack in the Box’s Brownie Bites aren’t for you. Well, unless you’re a fan of dry happiness-draining brownies.

The only time brownies have ever wiped the smile on my face was when I forgot to add eggs to the brownie mix and I ended up with brownies that resembled, and were as hard as, what we call here on this rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, pahoehoe lava.

Geology lesson bonus!

I didn’t expect Jack in the Box’s new Brownie Bites to be elegant made-from-scratch brownies from a reality show dessert chef trying to please three judges in order to not be eliminated, but I presumed they would be almost as good as brownies made using a Betty Crocker mix by an eighth grader in a home economics class.

Unfortunately, the Jack in the Box Brownie Bites didn’t meet my low expectations.

Again, they weren’t chewy, but that could’ve easily been forgiven if they had a nice chocolate flavor. However, as I chewed through each of the five pieces, I could feel the disappointment my taste buds were experiencing from the dessert’s unsatisfying chocolate flavor.

And after I was done with this dainty snack, all I could think about was how I wished it had chocolate chips baked in them or it came with a chocolate dipping sauce, both of which would’ve enhanced the flavor.

But all is not bad with Jack in the Box’s Brownie Bites. They’re served warm so if you buy two Brownie Bites servings, each of which contains five pieces, you can stick one on every fingertip to keep them temporarily warm during these cold months. Also, they’re cheap enough that you can probably purchase it with the loose change you find under your car’s seat.

But if you do that, please look for the money before you go to the drive-thru.

Overall, I’m pretty sure I won’t be ordering Jack in the Box’s Brownie Bites again. With desserts, it should make you think, “Oh, what a wonderful way to end a meal!” or “That was so worth the calories!” But these brownie bites didn’t do either.

(Nutrition Facts – 288 calories, 115 calories from fat, 13 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 44 milligrams of cholesterol, 159 milligrams of sodium, 225 milligrams of potassium, 39 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 30 grams of sugar, and 4 grams of protein.)

Other Jack in the Box Brownie Bites reviews:
Spoil Your Dinner

Item: Jack in the Box Brownie Bites
Purchased Price: $1.19
Size: 5 bites
Purchased at: Jack in the Box
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Warm. Inexpensive. Bite-sized. Crashing birthday parties at Chuck E. Cheese’s. Finding money under your car seat. Droppin’ geology knowledge on y’all.
Cons: Edible, but not delightful. Dry. Unsatisfying chocolate flavor. Had a more cake-like texture than chewy. Not a good way to end a meal.