March 28, 2005~~2:20 p.m.
On the Egg
There is something woeful to me about the passing of Easter and it has nothing to do with the fact that Christ died. It is the fact that for another year, I will be bereft of Cadbury Cr�me eggs. My birthday was last week, so Easter always comes somewhat close to my day. One year, in high school, my best friend got me TEN Cadbury eggs for my birthday. It was my most prized gift that year. I rationed my eggs so that they lasted well past Easter and it was so smart of me. I enjoyed the luscious overly-sugary yet somehow tasteless cr�me inside sub-par chocolate for months. I remember I kept them all inside my desk drawer in my room. Sometimes, at night, when I was procrastinating doing my homework, I would open my drawer and ponder whether or not to eat one. Sometimes I would and sometimes I would be strong for another day. I realize that not everyone shares in my passion for cr�me eggs. I believe that even for myself, they tend to fall into the �so gross they�re good� category I have for candy. Butterfinger bars are another example of that. Nonetheless, I heart them. I have a system in eating my cr�me eggs. You can�t just bite half of it off and mindlessly chew. You must savor the egg as though it is a once-yearly experience, like the first dip in the pool of the summer, or the first day you notice the flowers in bloom in springtime, or orgasms for some sad women. Because, in some ways, it is that. A once-yearly experience. Unless, of course, you raid Target for the after-Easter markdowns like I probably will. So to eat my egg, I carefully bite off the top. Then bite slightly down one side, revealing some of the cr�me. Then I basically lick out portions of the yellow and white fondant until there is only a bit left in the bottom of the chocolate. At that point, it's every egg for himself and I chomp down the rest of it. And then, in a flash, it�s all over. My mom hid an Easter basket for me and Omar last week when she was visiting. It was a surprise to me on Easter morning. Inside, it contained the requisite Peeps, some Lindt chocolate eggs and bunnies, and of course, some Cadbury Cr�me eggs. But these were the mini ones. And I�ll tell you, they weren�t the same. First of all, there isn�t enough of them to eat them in the manner in which I am accustomed and prefer. They are more prone to being popped in a mouth and munched without much consideration. All that aside, however, I found that the majority of the mini eggs have somehow managed to congeal the cr�me inside! It�s practically a travesty that the cr�me is hardly so. It�s more like real cake fondant! Also, I�m not sure if it�s just a by-product of manufacturing or pure intention on the part of Cadbury, but the �cr�me� inside doesn�t really have any white to it. It�s all yellow-orange pseudo-yolk. What is the fun in that? Where is the fake protein? Next year, I am requesting the full-size eggs be used in my basket. If that demand is to the exclusion of other candies, so be it. I have decided that jelly beans give me indigestion anyhow.
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