And so the second most gluttonous holiday is upon us. Yes, in theory, Easter is about that time Jesus rose—or something? He died and then got up again? All his friends had a big send off? One of them got kicked out the WhatsApp group for being a dick? Something about a big rock? I don't know. But I do know that, like all good Christian holidays, Easter has been distorted with time, commercialized, the true meaning hidden behind a shroud of gluttony and seasonal purchases. So now Easter is about eggs. Delicious, creamy eggs.
The creamiest of all the eggs is arguably the Creme Egg, so called for the sugar fondant filling and the fact that it is shaped like an egg. The Creme Egg is iconic. It is a symbol of what Easter is and what it can be. It is delicious. Australians keep putting coffee in them and it is hurting my heart.
Here's the new thing: the—and there are not enough quotation marks in the world for this one—"eggspresso," a new coffee shop trend where a shot of espresso is decanted into a hollowed-out egg, a sort of deconstructed seasonal mocha. Reports suggest that, while undoubtedly unholy, the resulting chocolate 'n' coffee concoction is mostly alright, if not actually good. In many ways: like-life.
But what if we put Creme Eggs in other popular lunchtime foods and drinks? If only someone was silly enough to volunteer to go and do a vodka shot out of a Creme Egg. If only someone was there to take photos of the whole sorry endeavor happening. If only.
(CREME) EGG AND Fries
What? Egg and fries, a British classic, the most British of classics, only instead of a good honest egg fried in vegetable oil, it's a a Creme Egg torn apart by bare hands and microwaved for a bit.
How did it taste? Not as bad as it looked. Creme Egg and fries tapped into the same palate tingling sensation as dipping your McDonald's fries into your milkshake does: sweet, salty, you know you're being disgusting but you're in too deep to care. Microwaved for maximum consistency, the flavors of once-frozen potato melded perfectly with the chocolaty overtones and sugary finish. In the end it was something like a salty brioche. I would eat this again.
Rating? Eight Creme Eggs out of ten.
What? Steak tartare. Do you know how hard it is to get steak tartare in Shoreditch at 11.30 AM the day before the Easter break? It is surprisingly hard. I had to go to Côte by the Barbican. I had to wait half an hour for someone to chop some steak into an egg. I had to carry it back to work in my own Tupperware.
How did it taste? I decided to disperse the egg evenly over the steak, which was by now comfortably reanimating at room temperature. It was oniony, it was sugary and it was sort of what you'd expect a Creme Egg mashed into chopped steak to taste like. Evidently, it wasn't too bad, as my colleague Leala came to join in and didn't even vomit once.
Rating? Raw steak and Creme Egg: 6/10
What? A Jägerbomb with a Creme Egg in it.
How did it taste? How does any Jägerbomb taste? A sort of hollow whisper of despair: a promise that you have done something to permanently alter your electrolytes; the threat that you are going to be awake for hours, skin shrinking, body shaking, feeling the Jägerbomb creep through you. Like that, but with added fondant. The hardest part of this mix was deciding at which point to put the egg in. I decided on trying to mash it in and pour everything else on top. To be honest, it was just a slightly more sugary Jägerbomb and felt like a bit of a waste of egg and energy drink alike. To confirm: I think putting a Creme Egg in a Jägerbomb is a waste. However, I think putting a Creme Egg in some $9.50 steak tartare is not a waste.
MISO EGG SOUP
What? Miso soup, beloved lunch option of the city worker who thinks they might really give this detox a go: "Yeah, actually, I feel good," they say. "No, I don't have those usual hunger pangs you get at about 4 PM, you know? I feel full, actually; happy. I might go to the gym later, this could be the start of a new me. Actually no fuck it I'm having a burrito."
How did it taste? The miso soup was interesting. Tip: if you're going to buy miso soup to crack a Creme Egg into as part of some elaborate photographic joke that stopped being funny two Jägerbombs ago, don't buy it 45 minutes before you need it so it can sit in the office and go from hot to lukewarm. I mean, I'm not saying that made the addition of a Creme Egg any worse, but it didn't exactly help.
Weirdly, the salty and savory base worked quite well with the sugary finish, and the half-melted chocolate texture produced something utterly sublime. Perhaps I was just so hungry that anything resembling food would have been fine, but I have to say it was a triumph.
Rating? I went in for seconds. Eight eggs out of ten cremes.
A SHOT OF VODKA DONE OUT OF A CREME EGG
What? A SHOT OF VODKA DONE OUT OF A CREME EGG.
How did it taste? LIKE A FUCKING SHOT OF VODKA DONE OUT OF A CREME EGG, BRO.
Rating? YEAH. DO THIS. DO THIS TO YOUR MOM. DO THIS TO YOUR GRANDMA. YOU'RE GOING HOME FOR A BIG FAMILY DINNER THIS WEEKEND, AREN'T YOU? BIG MEAL, YEAH? FAMILY GATHERING, YEAH? FILL YOUR CREME EGGS WITH VODKA AND TURN IT INTO A FUCKING PARTY. ONE THOUSAND CREME EGGS OUT OF TEN.