Rhyme and Reason Chocolate Company

 Located at 301-D State Street, Rhyme and Reason Chocolate Company offers bean-to-bar craft chocolate bars. The store is open from 10:30-6 Tuesday-Saturday, noon-6 on Sunday, and closed on Mondays. Online shopping is available.

 

Though North Carolina does not lack high-quality artisanal chocolate (see Black Mountain in Winston-Salem or Videri in Raleigh), Rhyme and Reason offers amazing concoctions the likes of which I have not encountered anywhere else. Their dark chocolate comes from two cacao sources: an Ecuadorian bean that delivers the familiar robust flavor and a rarer (stateside, at least) Thai bean that offers a naturally sweeter and fruitier taste. Rhyme and Reason’s take on a spicy bar stands out, too. Instead of cayenne, they use paprika, which offers heat toward the back end rather than hitting you right up front. Their other flavored bars include raspberry, orange, coffee, and rotating seasonal selections. All are good, and none imparts an artificial aftertaste. Speaking of artificiality, for those who’ve ever been disappointed by waxy, chemical-laden white chocolate, Rhyme and Reason’s version will be a revelation.

 

As expected, Rhyme and Reason’s offerings are not cheap though they are more affordable than I had anticipated. A bar will set you back $8. The quality of the products alone makes a compelling case for shelling out that much, and the people behind them only add to it. Engineer-turned-chocolatier Elizabeth Tully is the kind of exacting, benign mad scientist that we need more of while her partner is a good salesman who is generous with samples.

 

Whether you’re shopping for a chocolate gift or a snack for yourself, whether you like classic dark or milk chocolate or want to mix it up, Rhyme and Reason has you covered. You really can’t go wrong here.

The Menu

 

Margo (Anya Taylor-Joy) accompanies enthusiastic foodie Tyler (Nicholas Hoult) to the Hawthorn, an exclusive restaurant situated on a private island. They are joined by a food critic (Janet McTeer), a movie star (John Leguizamo), and other wealthy elites for an extravagant meal prepared by world-renowned chef Julian Slowik (Ralph Fiennes). But as the evening progresses, it becomes clear that the only thing Slowik really plans to serve is revenge.

 

Directed by Mark Myold, The Menu is part thriller, part darkly comedic social commentary. It’s aesthetically impeccable with a handful of strong performances and several hilarious and unnerving moments, but Will Tracy’s script with its underwritten characters and clumsy messaging is tough to swallow.

 

The Menu’s opening – insufferable rich folks board a boat for an island getaway that blows up in their faces – will seem familiar to anyone who saw fellow 2022 release The Glass Onion. However, whereas Rian Johnson’s cast of scoundrels was amusingly audacious, this group is largely forgettable. There are the aforementioned critic and actor, a trio of Wall Street bros, a perpetually drunken older relative, etc. Leguizamo playing a boorish has-been actor doesn’t strain the imagination (interestingly he based his performance on horrible memories of working the Steven Segal) though anyone could have played this role (and it was actually written with Daniel Radcliffe in mind). Hoult’s character is an exception to this bland stereotyping as Tyler vacillates between giddy excitement and sociopathic indifference to the growing danger around him. He’s ultimately too pathetic to be truly disturbing, however.

 

The movie’s attempt at thematic resonance is another misfire. A straightforward eat-the-rich bromide, while tired, would have at least been coherent. The Menu, however, seems to want to both validate that message while simultaneously pushing its antithesis. In addition to being unhinged, Slowik is by his own admission complicit in everything he rails against.

 

Despite these flaws, The Menu is a far cry from a disaster. Fiennes is in peak form here, playing Slowik as both deranged and wounded, monstrous yet all too human. Though her character is hampered by the aforementioned script problems, Taylor-Joy is often the film’s anchor, acting as an audience surrogate by calling out the excesses all around her. Hong Chau also does good work as Elsa, Slowik’s maitre’d who follows him with steely resolve and cult-like devotion.

 

Moreover, for all of its muddled messaging, The Menu’s means of delivery is wickedly funny. Slowik’s acts of vengeance embody all of the pretension and visual spectacle we associate with haute cuisine. In one moment, guests are served tortillas with embarrassing moments printed on them; in another, a sommelier’s description of a bottle includes notes of regret. The dish descriptions that follow each of the movie’s “courses” are another pitch-black highlight.

 

The Menu is a satisfying main with an unpalatable side. Eat and enjoy what you can of it, ignore the rest, and hope that nothing gets stuck in your teeth.