Destination: chocolate?

If you’re going to name your place Destination: Chocolate, you better know what you’re doing. First, you better know chocolate. Second, you better be able to execute it (and by that I mean not just know chocolate in theory, but be able to translate that knowledge and turn out an incredible bonbon). If you’re not going to do that—call your place something else. That’s my biggest beef with Destination: Chocolate in Newport. Not that they turn out mediocre chocolates, but that they profess their chocolates are so great.

What’s the old saying? Under-promise, over-deliver. If you under-deliver, you’re going to hurt your business more then the mediocre product alone would have. For example: a restaurant offers a crème brûlée on the dessert menu. You order it; it’s a decent crème brûlée. Not the best you’ve had, but certainly not the worst. Suppose the restaurant offers the best crème brûlée ever. If they serve you a “C” crème brûlée, that “C” is going to stand out more in comparison to the “A” standard they set up. It’s a failure by comparison.

The name is what initially drew me in. Just as if some restaurant had bragged “Oh, we have the best crème brûlée,” it dared me to try it. Now, I should stop for a moment and tell you I take chocolate seriously. Especially when it comes at $24 for a box of twelve. Or $10 for a box of four.

Destination: Chocolate has the look of a gourmet chocolate shop. Chocolate confections pour out of antique-looking medicine cabinets; each impeccably wrapped in cellophane and tied with blue ribbon. A butcher’s block style table surrounded by wooden stools looks perfect for a chocolate tasting. The whole place is warm and inviting.

The proprietor greeted me cordially and gave me a brief rundown of her chocolates. She spoke so authoritatively on the subject I almost missed the fact that she doesn’t make the bonbons herself. They’re made fresh, with local ingredients. But by someone else. Somewhere else.

Once home, I sit down on the couch, tucking my legs underneath me. I pulled out my box, excited to finally eat my prettily-painted chocolates. The first—alright, not the best espresso I’ve ever had. But let’s try the passion fruit. The proprietor said her passion fruit bonbon was very good so I’m enthusiastic. But it’s not quite right. The balance isn’t there and it ends up being somewhat sour. Next up, the Venezuelan—the store owner’s self-professed signature chocolate. It’s completely bland; I don’t note any of the rich spiciness that I’ve come to associate with Venezuelan chocolate. The box of chocolates goes on like this—successively underwhelming me.

I’m not as disappointed by the fact that the chocolates fell flat, as I am by the unsubstantiated egotism of the store’s name. Garrison Confections in Providence or Golosa in Philadelphia are much more deserving of the title “Destination for Chocolate.”