Easter: a religious festival or socially acceptable chocolate binge? Whatever the reason, it’s a spiritual and celebratory time for many of us. But what does your Easter egg choice say about you?
Nestle Egg and Bar Option – £1.50
Sure, it’s Easter, you don’t mind an egg, and it’s sporting to take part – but you can ultimately take it or leave it right?
Your ambivalence to materialism underpins you. Or do you just not like chocolate? Either way, you’re a person of simple taste and not one to splurge, which isn’t a bad thing at all. You know what works for you and you’re easy going enough to participate when social pressures come your way.
Lindt
Two kinds of people buy these: the proclaimed and explicit chocolate lover who relishes the chance to buy quality egg-shaped chocolate once a year and justifies the choice as an essential and well-earned treat. Good on you. I’m the same with coffee (we all need a vice).
Then, there’s the other type. If we’re being honest, your parents still send you a food allowance, don’t they? You don’t really like chocolate that much, at least, not Easter egg chocolate – the actual chocolate that comes as an accompaniment to the egg is more your style. But mum insisted she’s treating you to an egg; you were probably spoiled with a Lindt advent calendar a few months back too weren’t you? Enjoy the middle class luxury whilst you’re not self-funding it kiddo.
A standard Cadbury’s Crème Egg (or Mini Eggs for that matter)
You’re doing it wrong. Get off cloud nine.
Tesco Free From (milk, gluten … fun?) Easter Egg
If you have an intolerance, you’re excluded from the following observation. You can enjoy your egg, and we’re glad to have you more included in the food world than ever before; you have just as much to offer and many creative twists on food that we can all benefit from.
If you’re just jumping on the free from bandwagon though, keep reading: you’re contentious. Not giving in to the Nestle of the world (though how much better is Tesco really?) you’re opting for the own-brand and vegan chocolate. Awareness is key with you, you’re the Zen flatmate: trippy wall hangings, alternative milk, and sneaking incense under the noses of the Broadgate police are all part of your lifestyle. Sure, you might be awkward at restaurants, and make most of us feel guilty with your organic fridge – but you’re a good person with your heart in the right place, and secretly we salute you and your willpower (I bet the egg won’t taste as nice as my egg, though). Oh, and if there’s only one left be nice, leave it for the person who actually needs the option!
Pierre Marcolini’s ‘The Hand Fan Doll’
Food scientist? Cooking school student? Architect? Art history student? Even if you are, I still can’t figure out how you’ll justify this purchase (though you seem to justify every other purchase you make). I know it’s pretty, I know it’ll be delicious but there’s no need to be so eggs-tra.
There are pricier options out there for the aristocracy amongst us (seriously some go into the thousands), but as a student, you’re basically the elite. If you’re lavish and willing to splurge I guess I admire and cringe at your ability to be so hedonistic. I love food, obviously. But there’s a limit (financially and common-sensibly). Why not have a three course Michelin-starred experience, or add some caviar to the weekly shop? (Or do you already do that? … Fair.)
Price aside, it is a beautiful creation, comprised of equally wonderful flavour combinations. Ultimately you have taste, know quality and appreciate a good time. If this is your choice of egg, be my friend. You’ll likely get pretty far in life (probably with the least effort) but hey, who wouldn’t take advantage of their social circle? Because if we are being honest, out of all these eggs, we’d all have this one if we could.
Rhys Thomas
Featured image by sophie, via Flickr, license here.
Follow us on Twitter and Instagram or like our Facebook page.
