Today OCD and Candy and I were downtown for gelato, but got waylaid by waffles. From the outside, Sweet Iron looks like a swanky nightclub. Inside, everything is so clean and shiny and streamlined that we at first suspected it might be a chain (we asked, and it's not). I'm not a fan of the aesthetics of swanky nightclubs or slick corporate cafes, but I am a fan of Sweet Iron's delicious Belgium waffles.
It's immediately clear that a lot of thought has gone into these waffles. We tried a special, The Prosciutto, which was drizzled in crème fraiche, piled high with chopped prosciutto, and garnished with minced green onions. Being a fan of salty meats and rich dairy products, I assumed that the garnishes would demand most of my attention, but surprisingly, the waffle itself took center stage. Thick and dense, Sweet Iron waffles have a pleasing texture that is accentuated by the light crunch of caramelized pearled sugar (imported from Belgium). Definitely a meal in itself, and a good deal at 5.99, especially when you consider that Sweet Iron uses fresh ingredients and buys local and organic when possible. I also sampled the Ice Cream Waffle, which was topped with a veritable ice cream sundae, including Lopez Island Creamery  ice cream, delicate whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and sour cherry compote. For 5.99 you get ice cream, and a meal-sized waffle. I’m definitely down with the idea of eating a meal that also happens to include ice cream and whipped cream. We didn’t try the Classic Waffle, but it’s only 2.99 and you can get its chocolate dipped brethren for 3.49. I will be returning.

Also, I’m probably selling the aesthetics of the joint short—I should mention that it has nice high ceilings and there were fresh yellow and red tulips on each table.

You can read The Stranger’s interview with the owners here.

I am not a chocolate person. Which isn't to say that I don't consume chocolate. I often have a piece of chocolate after dinner, I enjoy a mocha now and then, and my favorite Gelato is definitely the Aztec Chocolate at Royal Grinders in Fremont. But in the realm of the chocolate fanatic, this is nothing. I have never used the word 'orgasmic' to describe chocolate, and I certainly would not (for various reasons) use the word 'chocoholic' to describe myself. I have friends who could compose symphonies about Cadbury mini eggs and a roommate who eschews bars that aren't 'at least 85% cacao'. These people are serious about chocolate. I am not. I eat chocolate lackadaisically, if someone happens to put it in front of me.

Which is exactly why I bit into a CoconutMacaroon Dark Chocolate Truffle Bar, a thank you gift from my ridiculously thoughtful friend Jill. Evidently her thoughtfulness goes deep. This was, without question, the most delicious chocolate bar I have ever eaten. I usually find coconut candies to be a bit woody, but the coconut in question was whipped into the chocolate to create a dark, silky consistency that, in my humble non-expert opinion, is the next best thing to sliding between satin sheets in the tropical cabana of your dreams. And the bright crunches of sea salt expertly extend my metaphor. Seriously. Eat it.