Ode to Cadbury Creme Egg

Cadbury Egg, how I love you so. Peeling open that thin, sticky foil (playing hard to get?), cracking open your hard, milk-chocolate shell only to reveal a nucleus of sugary ecstasy.

Why am I obsessed with you and your gaggle of wholly unnatural little beasties? After all, you're a bit off-putting, evolutionarily speaking. You're an egg, but were laid by a bunny. Are you chocolate or are you dairy? Are you heavy with cholesterol like other eggs? You peek out from stores across America, yet your name embraces the very European-sounding "creme." And just what are your insides made of? Fondant...so mysterious. And yet, delicious. Every year, after the last of the Valentine's Day clearance candy get cleared from my local drugstore, my heart skips a beat and my stomach starts growling in anticipation for you. Some people write you off as an aberration of nature, but I embrace your distinct qualities. Sweet, creamy, grainy, faux yellow yolk. For 170 calories and 6 grams of fat, you're a palm-sized splurge healthier than the average candy bar and perfect for PMS. And you are vegetarian. A vegetarian egg.

Now I just need to find out if you're kosher for Passover...