Cadbury Egg Hunt

I have always had an affinity for Cadbury Creme Eggs... Mmmm or maybe not an affinity so much as a mild obsession. Though I enjoy the other forms of Cadbury chocolate decadence, it is the creme eggs that really taunt me during the months when they are absent from confectionary shelves. As Easter approaches and my general disinterest in religion comes into sharp relief once again, my passion for all things festive and celebratory is also heightened. That being said, the other day I started noticing the grocery stores displaying their fanfare of Easter treats. Unlike the United States, holidays don't usually start a half year before the date arrives. Christmas decorations don't go up around Halloween, Easter candy doesn't hit the shelves before Valentine's Day. As I was perusing the stands of sugary sweetness, I saw some bunnies and pastel colors, and of course the Kinder Egg... Swooooooooon... But no Cadbury! Bestill my heart... Or actually, make it still, like as in stop... Short aside: When I was in 8th grade, I had major back surgery and stayed at home in a full body cast for 6 months. I let slip the fact that I loved Cadbury creme eggs, so my grandmother in particular kept me well-provided as often as possible. Needless to say, I ate exactly 54 cadbury creme eggs that season, a record I am frankly still proud of to this day. In addition, when I was studying theatre for a semester abroad in London during college I also discovered the Cadbury Creme Egg Mcflurry... Die several deaths and be reborn like a phoenix... Every time I revisit the British Isles I check to see if McDonald's, a venue I usually choose NOT to patronize (in the patronage sort of way, as clearly I am happy as a clam to mock it condescendingly) to see if tis the season for yumminess.

My point of course is that I do in fact love these delicious delights, so the idea that I could possibly go an entire Easterly season without one seems shocking at the very least. Upon investigation, I have discovered that they are simply not a part of the French custom. As we all know, Paris and England have never been best friends forever, and while France has aisles of foreign food like any other metropolis, they don't feel the need to import anything and everything from abroad like New York does. And so, the irony... The other day I was meeting a friend in the Marais, a historic area of Paris known for many things including a plethora of expensive shops. I had heard a while back that there is a store called "Thanksgiving", devoted to American imports, apropos to say the least, since Thanksgiving and overeating do tend to be quite an American stereotype. I was early to meet my friend so I finally located the shop and wandered in for a few minutes. It's rather small, with an exceptionally motley crew of random American artifacts, ranging from rainbow chip frosting to Nilla wafers to barbecue sauce to beef jerky. As I made my quick surveillance of what they had in stock, my eyes stumbled majestically upon a small carton of... Tra la la la laaaaa... Cadbury Creme Eggs. While living in France and popping into an American store named after a different American holiday, I bought an English staple of seasonal Easter joy. And it all comes full circle once again.