My ebullience knows no bounds concerning the ambrosial delights of chocolate. So when cater-cousin Lizzy, in a welcome kernel of Berlin-owledge, suggested a visit to “the Ritter Sport factory” there was not the slightest tinge of rancorous dissonance on my part. This Lizzy (smiling here first photo) is a discerning connoisseur of the trademark square chocolate bar in her own right, idolizing the cornflake variety above all others. She was also the first to elucidate the versatility of the term “derp” in today’s morphing vernacular; I esteem no higher accolade. Stats are high that as I type and you e-read, this eternal busy-bee is derp-derp-derping away on some project, subtly exposing the inferiority of fellow mortals by comparison.
But enough anecdotal digression! In crafting this review, I learned that what we erroneously referred to as the Ritter Sport factory is technically christened Ritter Sport: Bunte Schokowelt, with the latter phrase translating to “Chocolate-Covered World.” Holy choco-batman, I lurve the sound of that. Covering something in chocolate can only ameliorate, so says I. Perhaps deluging the earth’s atmosphere in liquid chocolate might finally extirpate that pesky global warming?
Translated via website as ChocoWorld*, this multifaceted store houses a myriad of Choco-prefixed activities, including ChocoPath, ChocoCreation, ChocoLounge, and clumsily portmanteau’d Chocolateria. ChocoLounge (the chairs of which shyly peek out above) and Chocolateria are two stations of bourgie food-eating; the first, a quasi-restaurant and the second, a café peddling kooky Ritter Sport beverages and pastries. All items with tantalizing descriptions (read: Marzipan hot chocolate) aren’t even close to vegan-friendly.
*I will perennially prefer the more clunky “Chocolate-Covered World.”
ChocoPath is a mildly boring second floor exhibit of the chocolate-making process, largely designed as meager brain stimulation while stalling an exit due to chocolate-browsing friends. The most photo-worthy vestige is the rainbow-checkered, John Hancock-laden statue at the tour’s end, serving as Ritter Sport’s homage to the Berlin Buddy Bears. Photo-op mandatory to all camera-wielding tourists!
Never-ending torrents of liquid dark chocolate, spurted from a wall eternally protected from desiccation—what more in life does one require?
Photo Credit: Emily Unruh
Chocophiles, I have saved the best for last: ChocoCreation. Behold, the epic culmination of a credulous, childlike dream: to create a unique Ritter Sport bar from mercurial creative whim. Fair dinkum, I am one veracious being! And at only 6ish euros charged per square-of-potential, what clodpoll would abstain?
From a list of 30 plus—from anise to yogurt chips—whittle down your crowned ingrdients to three. State your preference for dark chocolate loud and vegan proud. While away an hour or so in choco-retail therapy until your hand-crafted chocolate square is ready for gnawing. Beam those pearlies for a victory photo. Repeat in climactic solemnity: I am less than a slice of bread.
Hazelnuts, cacao nibs, and sizzling chili comprised the innards of meine schoko kreation. This was my first rendezvous with the incomparable chili-chocolate paring and I shall forever be a better gourmand for it. The filberts (wildly more pleasing in enunciation than “hazelnut”) were the, for lack of a better term, “meat” of the candy while the cacao nibs added a delightful rice crispy-esque crunch to every other bite. On fear of triteness I shan’t metaphorically allude to sexual zeniths, but be assured that this was a damn enjoyable chocolate experience.
Cussin’ A, I wish I had ordered two.
Ritter Sport shopping delights clearly abound, with conquering armies of flavors adorning brightly hued walls. Cheap too, at a few coins over a euro per bar. Amongst the throes of omni choco-gluttony be wary of the relative paucity of vegan selections: marzipan (filled with that toothsome culinary divider, almond paste) and 50 or 70% dark chocolates (edel-bitter and halbitter, respectively). Quail not as all three bars prove the unparalleled culinary reaches of the humble cacao bean. Try a bar sandwiched between a baguette as a pain au chocolat facsimile for a Schönefeld airport breakfast of champs. Experience speaks favorably.
Label-reading note: The once-vegan peppermint bar is no longer so. Butterfat, you are one wholly pernicious bastard.
Alas, I eagerly await my next trip to Bunte Schokowelt. I will not make the neophyte’s mistake of buying a paltry seven squares next go-round.
Ritter Sport—Bunte Schokowelt (Bahn: Französisch Straße)
