Warning: This article may contain very bad puns and unintended double entendre depending on the cleanliness of your own mind which obviously has nothing to do with me.
When I received my invitation to the Creme Egg cafe I was obviously torn, seen as it was Lent and despite not having been to mass in years I had pledged on Ash wednesday to give up chocolate.
A hurried meeting was organised with the other invitees, a petition was signed, a referendum was called and the rules of Lent were formally changed without having to go to confession and so our guilt free plan was hatched – we would forgo the usual day off lent on St Patricks day in order to eat our creme eggs. Happy out.
The cafe has been set up on the canal and it was hard not to skip when I spied the massive creme egg on the roof. This was going to be great crack (you were warned).
We were told to sit where we liked, outside there was an amazing set up around tables but we decided to sit inside where a neon cream egg lit long tables set for breakfast. There was such a buzz, I actually don’t remember the last event where there was such a fizz!
We were welcomed with a song from the star of the cafe – a guy called Egg who serenaded us. He was genuinely funny, the place was cracking up at his clowning and the buzz was brilliant. The creme egg cafe is a slick operation for a pop up, it’s polished and ready for action every day eight times a day.
The place was rammed and breakfast was served, piled high on tiered trays were toasted creme egg sandwiches, creme egg donuts, potted strawberries and creme egg brownie bake. It was endless and served along with coffee, tea and juice.
The beloved egg is in need of a blow out for its patrons, given the scandal this year when it was revealed that the chocolate shell is no longer Dairy milk. People don’t forgive easy. A creme egg cafe is only going half the way to repair my own relationship with the little nugget that so easily fits in the palm of my hand in the supermarket queue. As for how I usually eat it? I like to pretend I’m a licker but I’m a top-off-biter-sucker-outer-ah-feck-it-i’ll-swallow-it-whole person (if that sentence is ever searched on google and you end up here I apologise for the disappointment).
I’m not egg-sactly sure where they got the idea for the cafes that popped up in London and Dublin although rumour has it they poached it from our beloved Tayto who popped up with a cafe last year and fed crisp sambos to half of Ireland in a couple of days.
And it works, especially since the Creme Egg cafe in Dublin, unlike the one in London, is completely free! The little foil wrapped darling is back in my good books with gumption after such a brilliant experience. No fee was required for the copious spread though donations can be made for the charity Aware and certainly pockets were generously emptied after such a fun time was had.
Cadbury don’t make a penny on the cafe itself so it feels like a nice warm hug from the company you have spent so much time with with since childhood.