I now realize that I was ignorant upon visiting Annedore’s Fine Chocolates. I was flustered after accidentally running the stop sign at 50th St. and State Line, adjacent to the quaint little shop. I was also bitter that I was going to have to be sampling $7 pieces of chocolate, but the high prices I anticipated ended up to not be that true. Basically, before I’d even walked into the doors of the place, I’d labelled this one a disaster.
Boy, was I wrong. While some of their chocolate was a bit pricey, I found that everything I put into my mouth was absolutely terrific and that their treats were made there in the shop. With the knowledge that the sweets I was about to consume were freshly made, I didn’t mind forking over the extra cash.
On top of the hand-crafted chocolate, the inside decor of the place was gorgeous. The ceiling was covered with shimmering silver and golden chandeliers, making me wonder if I’d stepped into a Renaissance castle or a chocolate store. Every which way you look there are tables set up with delectable treats, wrapped in glossy red and green packages. There was a spiral staircase in the corner leading up to what I presumed to be an office. On the opposite side of the room, there was an almost-edible looking layer cake covered completely in red and white macarons.
Perhaps the coolest thing, though, was a large window that took up the entire back wall of Annedore’s. I could see one or two workers bustling around while they actually made the chocolate before my very eyes.
I ordered a vanilla and lemon macaron, along with a candied orange wheel dipped in milk chocolate and a small piece of their famous chocolate with a caramel filling. My total came out to be $8.48, kicking my previous fears of crying out in pain at the cash register as my total came out to be in the triple digits.
My friend got both a vanilla and pistachio macaron and with one last goodbye to the ladies running the shop, we braved the nippy November wind to grab a seat a few shops down at a coffee shop. Annedore’s didn’t have any seating inside, which was a bit annoying because we had to leave the place to eat our treats.
Both of us bit into our vanilla macarons first, and exchanged a look of awe: they were amazing. They were just the right amount of chewy, with the fluffy cookie part melting in our mouths. Simply put, I was glum once the yummy pastry goodness was off the gold-polka dotted napkin and in my stomach. One down, three to go.
My friend then offered me a bite of her pistachio macaron, which I gratefully accepted. This one was a bit less magnificent. I’d never actually tasted pistachio before and after my bite of the mint-colored macaron, I deducted that I still had not. There wasn’t much taste to it at all, in my opinion. But according to my pal, it tasted like pistachios doused in sugar, so I’ll take her word for it.
My taste buds still singing from the vanilla macaron, I decided to try some of my piece of caramel coated in chocolate. This was the single thing I found overpriced, $1.40 for not even a square inch of a caramel truffle.
Upon biting into it, I found that the caramel filling had a smooth and creamy consistency to it, but the chocolate tasted metallic. I grew to like it with time though, noticing that the aftertaste was that of the smooth, homemade chocolate I’d been expecting in the first place.
I’d had some reservations about buying my third treat, the orange wheel, in the first place. While strawberries and chocolate make for a mouthwatering combination, I couldn’t picture an orange coated in chocolate having the same savory effect on my taste buds. But I ordered it anyway, and I am oh so happy I did.
Just the smell of the orange slice overwhelmed my senses,
pumping me up for the first bite. All I can say for the first bite is that eating “healthy” never tasted this good. It was like fruit leather on corn syrup-infused steroids: tough, squishy, delightful. True to my suspicions, the chocolate paired with it was a bit weird, but I learned to enjoy the combination after a few bites anyway.
After basking in the glory of the orangey aftertaste, I didn’t believe that electric-yellow macaron sitting on my napkin could gain anything on what I had just tasted. But in this case, I’d really saved the best for last.
Unlike the orange wedge, the lemon macaron had no scent to it at all. But when I bit into it, it was a lemon explosion. Imagine a lemon bar and the “Lemonades” Girl Scout Cookies having a baby. That’s what was happening inside my mouth. The macaron had the consistency of the first two and combined with that punch of lemon flavor, it proved to be the greatest treat yet.
So yeah, I’d say brave the risk of running a stop sign over a handful of decadent chocolates and macarons. If you want a place to fatten up for the winter, or just subject your taste buds to a wild roller coaster of sugar and happiness, then Annedore’s is just the place for you.
Map from SMEast to Annadore’s by Aidan Epstein: