She’s alive!
Back in 2004, the Flake Girl was viciously murdered by Cadbury. We never found out the exact cause of death, but rumour has it she was drowned in a bath she’d been lying in for 30 years.
But now, she’s back. And looking rather tasty, if you ask me.
Actress and model Alyssa Sutherland will take on the roll for the new ad which will start appearing on TV and in the cinema this Friday.
Whether she’ll be sticking with her original Flake or trying some of the new Flake varieties remains to be seen.
According to The Telegraph, Masterfoods – the maker of Mars products – is to stop advertising its products to under 12s.
The firm said: “We have decided to make an official policy change to a cut-off age of 12 years for all our core products.”
While this is undoubtadley a good thing, I wonder if we can all look forward to brand new Mars ads aimed specifically at 13 year olds very soon..
Australian Chocablog reader MillyMoo sent us her own very personal “Creme Egg Story” from last year. We love it. Only Creme Egg could inspire such heartfelt prose.
A quick reminder – Easter is coming up fast again and Creme Eggs are back in the shops. .. mmmmm… *slurp*….
“Oh dear, sweet, accessible Cadbury Creme Egg. My fillings ache just by glancing over at you, glistening in your primary-coloured foil, stacked in a fetching pile near the check out.
Easter may have just ended, but you manage to linger on. Why is it that you, of all the commercial holiday refuse, remain at full price and all of the other pretenders to your throne (Red tulip, Cadburys, Heritage, even Lindt) are now thrown into a cardboard box emblazoned ‘50% Off’. They’re not fit to be seen next to you. All are disfigured – crudely broken, holes picked into their sides from sticky little fingers, smashed into fragments or their boxes dented unbecomingly.
I may have spent the four days of Easter long weekend dreaming of you, but you were never made a reality. No-one gave me any of you – I would have smelt and sensed you long before you were plonked out on the kitchen table for Sunday morning anyhow. Don’t fret, little egg: I made do with many mournful mouthfuls of rabbit ears, dark squares, M&Ms and anything that my daughter Sapphire wished to share. Of course it wasn’t enough: it wasn’t what I really craved. That, dear Creme Egg, was you.
And so, two weeks later at the supermarket I now find my hands excitedly fumbling for my wallet; coins spinning on to the moving checkout belt. My surrender is now complete. The family groceries are paid by credit card but the pack of six Cadbury Creme Eggs are paid in cash, like a guilty secret, and shoved into my backpack before anyone else can see. Like a true addict, I fidgeted nervously and looked around for a secluded spot to eat one. Not out in the sunlight where it would be too public and possibly offensive for people to see, but in the shade, at the side of a building or beside a…….. the alleyway by the cinema! My feet were yearning to run like the wind instead of badly act out the casual saunter my brain was imposing upon them. It wouldn’t do to have someone else guess my purpose; I was never ever going to share.
A quick glance around revealed no other passersby, just bird crap-spattered cars, takeaway containers and cigarette butts. My shaking hands ripped off the foil as I eagerly hunched over the egg, shielding it from view. My eyes closed as my two front teeth bit hard into the thick chocolate. The egg white fondant poured out of the top and ran becomingly down the sides of my mouth, but I was already far away from my grimy spot on earth to care. Another big bite saw the fondant turn into a yolky yellow as I greedily gulped it down and chewed the chunks of chocolate at a more leisurely pace. Blood was now pumping warm in my veins and successfully insulating me from the wind and cold of the dull day. After only three precious mouthfuls, I had reached the last morsel – the bottom of the shell. No fondant, just a thick layer of Cadbury dairy milk chocolate. A cruel consolation because it left me wanting more…..”
Pardon me boys, is that a Crunchie in your knapsack?
…If so, then gimme gimme gimme. It is Friday afterall and I DO have that feeling.
You’ve got to love the advert from the ‘80s, although you won’t love me in a few hours when you are still singing it.
The thing about the advert is; when adverts are on the TV we use the time to unwrap chocolates or re-arrange our supply of choccy nibbles, making sure they are in easy reach when the TV show starts again, so, when you don’t realise the correct context of these words, it can be quite alarming. “Swing baby swing” the men sing. Well, if you think I will be swapping my chocolate bar with some strange couple you can think again! It is quiet a relief to realise they are actually referring to golf. Now, that’s not a line I ever thought I would say/type!
Cadbury Crunchie; Milk Chocolate with a golden honeycombed centre. It is indeed what it says on the wrapper. Nothing more nothing less. For once I can say that I don’t believe it has shrunk in size over the years (unlike my jeans) Maybe it has shrunk and I’ve reached that stage of life where I annoy people with my selective memory? No, no can’t be that.
I reckon there is just the right amount of chocolate covering on this bar. Maybe a little more wouldn’t go amiss but if Cadbury were to reduce the amount then take it from me I will be starting the petition, leafleting and t-shirt campaign.
Crunchie is one of those bars that must be eaten at the right temperature, ie room temp. Don’t mess with storage temperature with these bars or the honeycomb stops crunching and starts breaking fillings or even worse….becomes chewy! Buy the Crunchie fresh. Choose your Chocolate shop wisely. The shops needs to have a fast turnover of confectionary. If the shop is located near a school and the shelves are emptied each lunch break then you are onto a winner. Don’t be afraid to request an inspection of the shops storage facilities. You can’t take it for granted that they have blacked out all sunlight and adjusted the air-con.
Crunchie is a nice alternative to a simple bar of chocolate. You might not realise you are in the mood for honeycomb…until you take the first bite. The bar will be gone in seconds, trust me.
Thank crunchie it’s Friday! I’ve got that Crunchie feeling, I’m frisky as a lamb….
