Chocolate Reviews: Dolfin Pure Chocolate with Lavender

Chocolate – good chocolate – should be a memorable experience from beginning to end. It’s a question of both branding and product quality (with a strong dose of the power of expectation) so that a particular bar will transcend the obvious taste blessings of a highly sugary food and become enjoyable for the sake of the deep, rich chocolate.

dolfin1

Opening
From the moment I read the label, this Belgian chocolate bar was memorable.

Lavender? An unusual choice…

Here’s the label. I cracked it open in the company of a group of engineers and chemists, so the mention of “kilojoules” on the nutrition label caught everyone’s attention, beyond just the usual calories number. One wonders what more it provides to the average consumer. Perhaps this is the product of Belgian regulations, per the lower left of the label?

dolfin3

Presentation
You can’t just tear this bar open. No, you have to flip it over, unseal the plastic pouch, and then unwrap it until you can get the actual bar (in its own wrapper) out. I suppose if I was planning a backwoods expedition and wanted to keep my chocolate well protected, this would be handy, but it seems a little much for an everyday snack.

It did build the anticipation of something special, though, as we steadily unwrapped – almost like opening a Christmas present.

Opening it up
Breaks crisply into long rectangles. Nothing particularly notable about the texture.

dolfin2

The first bite
Well. When they said “Lavender,” they weren’t lying. This is seriously lavender.  I think there’s chocolate in there somewhere, but mostly it’s overwhelmed by the flavor.

Look, I’m a little biased. I have lavender hand soap in my apartment, so maybe it’s just hard to get away from that association. But if chocolate is even bringing soap into the equation, something is seriously wrong. I tried this with three others, and we all gave up after a bite or two.

Good for nibbling? No.
Good for devouring? Don’t even start.

How do you want to fail?

Don't feel blue! Hopefully most of your failures won't be this bad.

Failing fast is a common mantra in tech and digital media – moving through a lot of wrong approaches in order to learn the lessons and get the experience needed to work through to the right approach. In particular, it’s great advice not to be afraid to plunge into ambitious projects and to deal with the issues that come up without being fazed.

However, it’s not enough just to fail. Failing is an art in itself.

Let’s say you’re working PR for a consumer tech company that uses online documentation as the first line of support for customers struggling to install and use a new product. But your product has gone through a lot of reworking, and your online support is far out of date.

So the question is – is the brand experience worse for:

  • A customer who goes to the website and gets no help at all?
  • A customer who goes to the website and gets the wrong answer to their problem?

Partially, the answer depends on in what way each support document is wrong – perhaps one has a button whose name has changed and another mis-addresses a critical functionality issue – but customers’ experiences with each of them reflect on your brand in different ways.

Or, if you’re coordinating with the engineers reworking your product as they try to update its software, there are similar questions to face: if you reset all customers’ software to fix an problem that only some customers are facing, will that be worse than letting the pre-existing issue continue?

No one’s perfect. One way or another, you’re going to fail some customers. How do you want to fail them?

Image is “IMG_1624” by Neal Jennings, available under a CC BY-NC-SA 2.0 license. ©2014