by Gino De Blasio | 4 minute read
Change, it happens. I wish John Lennon would have written something about change, rather than imagining, it would have made the start of this piece infinitely better. Sure, Sam Cooke’s ‘A Change is Gonna Come” is fine, but that leaves the door open to expect it, only, I’m talking about Cadbury’s Creme Eggs.
Songs around civil rights are not things we should be comparing creme eggs to, unless you’re Dr Ben Carson, but then you’d expect a lot worse from the man who compares slavery to immigration. No, Creme Eggs on the grand scale of things are not important, but when it comes to social media outrage, media coverage and the vicious bastards of corporate Western business, then we should all join the picket lines; as long as they’re imaginary and exist only on twitter.
Who would have thought that changing the recipe to a chocolate, cream-filled egg would cause uproar. It did, it still does. It’s been two years and we, as collective consumers can’t handle that what was the perfect alchemy of milk chocolate and whatever the hell goes to make the sugary innards was changed. It was a special relationship, formed over many years, gone with a silly vote…
Of course, America was blamed, after all, Kraft took over Cadbury’s and they couldn’t be happy just leaving be. They got rid of the jobs in the UK, they started rebranding things and eventually, they had to dick around with the only thing that we were allowed to get excited for after Christmas, Easter. I guess it’s a good thing that we won’t be as reliant upon them in the future.
The problem with the new recipe is like taking a Rolls Royce to the greyhound races instead of Ascot. Yes, there is the hand stitched leather interior, the wood panelling is precise, the paintwork crisp and the chrome, enough to please a rapper, not so much to make you think you want to be vajazzled (1). The Creme Egg has gone from Belgravia to Chigwell, it just doesn’t feel, right.
The Creme Egg has gone from Belgravia to Chigwell, it just doesn’t feel, right.
Of course, they’re not the only brand over history to change their recipe to crowd unhappiness. Coke in the 80’s pulled the stunt, “New Coke.” Obviously, being the 80’s, everyone was experimenting with cocaine, stock brokers were the new rockstars and free market capitalism was sweeping the western continent, Coke gambled that no one was going to notice; they did. Not even the Patrick Bateman’s (1) of this world were going to get mugged off on this cunning switcharoo. Coke would yield, ‘new coke’ became ‘old coke’ and stock brokers continued to be, well, you know… “bankers.”
You couldn’t imagine Aunt Bessie’s Yorkshire Puddings changing could you? I mean, there would be carnage in the streets of Leeds and Barnsley (2) if it did. I’m pretty sure that street food merchants aren’t restaurateurs because they like to mix the menu around, but even they’re not fickle enough to cock-up a stall time favourite, that would be income lost and, passive aggressive Instagram posts saying “how times change, and this kebab is now sh*t” with a picture and ‘hefe’ filter as proof.
Perhaps the reason is that, ultimately, a creme egg is a vice and vices are bad, apparently. That’s why they’re called vices and not, pleasure pleasers, which sounds like some sort of erotic game conjured up when eating the inside of said creme egg.
That’s why they’re called vices and not, pleasure pleasers, which sounds like some sort of erotic game conjured up when eating the inside of said creme egg.
We’ve all been there with this particular vice though. Sat on a couch, quietly sobbing into an oversized, moth collecting cardigan and knowing that one is never enough (3), and that stuffing your emotions is not the best path for you. If Sean T saw you eating one, he’d probably give you his 90 day Insanity Challenge in one sitting, Joe Wicks would probably force feed you cocoa solids to stave off the cravings and UniLad would probably share a video of someone in a Creme Egg coma because it’s all about the bantz!
By all means, not all change is bad in the food world. If we didn’t change, and evolve and grow, and get better, we’d still be eating porridge without mango, coconut shavings and pomegranate seeds. We’d be chained to the idea roast should be as leathery as a shoe and as adventurous as a night in Burnley bingo hall and we’d still hold dear to the idea that the height of gastronomy was a 1970’s prawn cocktail. Thank god for crayfish or we’d be ruined.
The point is that food is a reflection of creativity, taste, farming, globalisation, political and socio-cultural change, food is evolutionary in an organic way; Creme Eggs just aren’t. They were the product of evolved chocolatier engineering, it feels like this incarnation is akin to being told, ‘you look great, now, let’s add some horns.”
Change happens, roll with the punches and get on with it. But change happened with Creme Eggs, and that, that just sucks.
1) Vajazzled, it’s an adult version of a TV craft show in a ladies private area, using crystals or diamonds to help enhance, apparently. I really have no clue.
2) Patrick Bateman is a fictional character from the book and film, American Psycho. A handsome, charming and yet equally disturbed psychopath, he wants power, he wants his own way and snorts more cocaine than healthily possible. He’s a 1980’s banker, says it all really.
3) Barnsley is a place in South Yorkshire. It’s a nightmare to get to and Michael Parkinson is the only famous thing to come from there.
4) Please don’t let this just be me…