March is a month known for many things, Hafsa Rahman tells us – the biggest betrayal in Roman history, Springwatch, but most importantly, the arrival of the ever-revered Cadbury Creme Egg.
My love for March has nothing to do with my fascination with the greatest plot twist ever (I really need to know, Brutus, why?) Instead, it has everything to do with the sighting of the year’s most esteemed treat: Easter eggs. Or more specifically, the creme egg – the one that puts the egg into Easter.
I will not be the first (or the last, I assure you) to admit to disliking trivial, commercialised products. But there is something so satisfying about cracking open an egg to reveal, instead of the usual gloopy mess, heavenly chocolatey goodness.
We all buy them, but as a self-proclaimed Easter egg aficionado, I have realised that there are three types of Easter egg consumers:
1. The “we do not care – an egg is an egg” type
This lot lacks imagination. They are the ones you see at the beach building sandcastles that look like you’ve plonked a bucket of sand on the floor. No moat, no pretty shells. Nada.
They will pop into a supermarket and buy the Crunchie or Maltesers egg which is essentially a hollow chocolate shell with a couple of bars of chocolate. How overwhelmingly underwhelming. Or, if they are feeling really posh (Ooh la la!), they might splurge an extra penny on a Lindt egg. Or bunny. Honestly, you may as well have just bought the bars of chocolate.
2. The “ooh, how exciting a new egg” type
This bunch are your regular, straight-off-the-bat balmy. They are there for every new fad that passes through; the type to have a Disney castle-shaped sand bucket at the beach, along with their own frou-frou pink biodegradable sand (no but really, who brings sand to the beach?)
You will see them in endless drones trailing to your local Aldi or Waitrose waiting to buy whatever Heston-infected creation is available that year. Probably a chocolate scotch egg. Or something that does not even resemble an egg.
3. The “the only egg is the creme egg” type
If it’s not broke, don’t fix it. We are at the beach digging away with our God-given hands to build a fort with a moat and drawbridge. All it takes is some creativity and you can do it all.
Spoiler alert: this is unashamedly a journalist’s ode to the Creme Egg.
Its seasonal presence makes it even more enticing – or in Cadbury’s own words: “Here today, Goo tomorrow!” Really, if you are going to buy an Easter egg, make it the classic. The OG, if you will.
My hunger for them this year is different, but there is a story behind it. Exactly a year ago, we entered our first lockdown. Creme Eggs were sold out everywhere. Forget loo roll Armageddon – it was doomsday for Creme Eggs. I waited an entire year, and only managed to grab the three I bought in Tesco’s. So this March, understandably, I of course bought…a good deal more. You know, just in case.
There is an art form to eating a Creme Egg. Go ahead, laugh away. But know I am right. Peel away the foil wrapper to unveil Cadbury’s milk chocolate. Really, is there anything not to like? After admiring its prettiness, you can crack it open – and folks? This is when the real fun begins.
Feast your eyes on the oozy, sugary goo that they pride themselves on. Unrivalled in taste, in sight, in texture. Take your pinkie and drag it through the best thing since sliced bread (personally, I think it is better). Say “Aaaah”, enjoy, and repeat.
Then scoff the chocolate shell. And there you have it – the Cadbury Creme Egg, putting the egg into Easter since 1971.
Now please, excuse me while I raid my kitchen – I have a sudden hankering for a hot-cross bun.
