Claire’s comment on my previous post reminded me that it’s time for my annual Cadbury Crème Egg Experience, in which I am lured in by its fascinating/creepy faux-yolk center, then reminded that it tastes like a big gob of nasty frosting. I will proceed to finish the egg anyway, because nasty frosting is still frosting, and I like to finish what I start (thanks to This Afternoon in Drama for alerting me to this pathology).
I will repeat this exercise with Peeps, which look like how a cloud would taste if you’d just dropped acid. Except in real life clouds probably taste like water and/or pollution, and Peeps taste like stale goo.
Just as I sometimes put off eating healthy things that are delicious (mangoes, strawberries, pineapple) because some part of my brain has declared it a chore, I also get excited about disgusting things that are bad for me because my brain thinks it’s going to have a sinful good time. That part of my brain seems to be stuck in its early 20s, the years of standing in long lines to get into loud sweaty clubs with expensive drinks because you’ve been told this is what fun looks like.
Okay, so I just Googled “Cadbury Crème Egg” and found a recipe for Cadbury Crème Egg Muffins, which—besides having the claim to fame of being a carb-within-a-carb—might be the most perfect example of the nasty/crave-worthy dichotomy ever.
Happy Easter, y’all.