29 March 2009

How do you eat yours?

Creme egg fans have only got a fortnight left to stock up before they disappear off the shelves for another year, and I for one will be glad to see the back of them.

I've not got the sweetest tooth in the world, as regular readers will attest, I much prefer crisps. I'll eat chocolate if it's put in front of me, unless of course, it is one of those ovoid goo fests.

Far too sickly.

Hot cross buns are a seasonal delight that I'd quite happily eat all year round, but if someone brings a box of Creme Eggs into work, then thanks, but no thanks.

I used to, and my earliest memory of one is also a bit of a confession.

When I was 7 or 8, I shared a room with my older brother, and one year we must have been given a Creme Egg each by someone.

Not wanting to eat my own yet, but curious as to what that yolky stuff in the middle actually tasted like, I decided the easiest way to find out was to poke a hole in big brothers, and drink out the yolk like some sugar crazed mongoose.

I peeled away a tiny corner of foil, and tried to pierce that chocolate chunklet with a paper straw.

No good.

Needed something firmer.

Pencil - too thick. Safety pin - too narrow.

Then I spotted it. On the floor, our recently finished game of Cluedo. There was a little metal dagger...

Only this looked a little weedy too...but the... what's that? The lead piping! Perfect diameter, and if I held the tip against the radiator for a couple of minutes I could heat it up enough to melt a hole in the chocolate, snaffle the innards, then melt the hole back up again.

Hole successfully made, I was back with the straw, but that gunk was just to thick to suck out. I'd have to use my poisonous board game accessory as a soldier.

So there I was. Dipping a piece of real lead (this was pre Health & Safety Law), into a Creme Egg and sucking off the goo like a chimp poking a stick in an ants nest.

So do you want to know why you once had an almost empty Creme Egg Simon?

You want to know who killed it before it had a chance at life?

It was your little brother, in the bedroom, with the lead piping.

Maybe that's why I don't like them now. Not the fact that the first one I remember probably gave me lead poisoning, but that not since have matched up in taste department without that heavy metal tang.

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