Ah me little Farm Boys and besmocked maidens, spring is upon us and I'm sure you're all busy on your Massey Fergusons tilling the fields for your next crop rotation.
Normally you'll all be stoking your pipe and settling down to see what's new in the world of chicken farming so have we got a surprise for thee.
We here at Overcluck know you're busy and so what could be better than to sit down in the evening after a hard day working the land to have a pint of your best scrumpy and chomp on a bit of chocolate? Well winning the local marrow show for one, but it's not quite marrow season so we'll make the best of what we have.
Cadbury Flake Egg
If there is one thing about this time of year the amount of chocolate available certainly isn't a poultry selection. See what I did there? I'm not just the straightest furrow-merchant this side of Bob's Farm and Sun Spa.
Now obviously our normal methods for testing chickens and a dozen large eggs don't really work for a chocolate one and so we've had a good chinwag over some pickles and Mrs Harris beautiful buns and come up with a couple of tests we're sure will keep the fox out the coop.
Let's see if this brown oval goodness will keep you and the wife ploughing all afternoon or whether you'll need to stop for refreshments.
Nutrition Information per 100g
|Energy in KJ||2205|
|Energy in KCal||525|
(of which sugars)
(of which is Saturated Fat)
Equivalent as Salt
So as we can see this is quite a sugary treat. Let's take a peek.
Feast Your Peepers on This Fine Bird
Arrr me lads it was a blessing not having to stand up to my knees in chicken feed for a change and I got the chance to take the camera into the bedroom for once.
The box is a cheery colour and I like it. It's not covered in feathers and that sure is a bonus. On the back we have a little word search. Took me, Doubting Thomas and Old Jim three days but we finally cracked it. Cracked. Eggs. Ah your old farming pal is in fine fettle today and no mistake.
Each side of the box is rectangular and has writing on it. Very la-de-da.
Opening it up and beating Normas hands away so it lasted long enough for testing we find, unsurprisingly, an egg and some flakes. Sure enough the advertising on the box is accurate.
I spent ages down on bended knee trying to convince Norma to do the old "only the crumbliest" bit in the bath, but the best I got was her spitting out her false teeth and eating one them whole. Don't say I didn't try lads.
Stripping it out the wrapper we see the thing we all love, our dear old feathered friend the chicken. And for once not a fried feathered friend, which'll be good news to all of those who have to read these articles out to the less genetically modified of our friends in the farming community.
So I can hear you all putting down your pipe and copy of the chicken fanciers weekly and asking how we tested this.
Yes I can hear you chortling. How are we going to test an egg that we can't fry and have it with bacon and won't follow our normal testing methodology of trying different feeds and seeing which lays the fastest.
Worry not my corn-chewing dungareed friends, we've a plan.
As you all know Five-Tooth John has some epic ideas when he's standing at mid-on, and this is a blinder. Why not borrow George to bowl and use the egg as a cup. Bound to test the durability and doesn't require extra gear we can ill-afford. Well not without selling the Collie.
Our testing was to draw straws and one of us stood at the crease while George sent a plum-hunter down the wicket. We then timed how long it was from the ball striking the, ahem, stump, before Martin was ready to play.
For obvious reasons we started with the genuine cricket cup as a base line and worked towards nothing at all. Although the graph appears flawed it isn't and we'll add in the result for nothing as soon as he comes round. Three weeks and counting...
Next on the list we wanted to see how long it could hold up under pressure. So we got Liz from the Daffodil and Penicillin pub to thread some string through a couple and tie them up tight. The longer she could hold a pencil within her cleavage the better. Naturally we then tested against some orthodox and less so things to see how it faired.
Finally we fired up some Battlefield Bad Company and gave Dave a couple of scumpies and some grub and saw what he had left after an hour.
Yeah we put anchovies on the pizza which he hates, but so what. He still stuffed that egg down his throat like the 25 stone fat git he is.
Nowt much to add really. We nearly were sick with laughter at Martin lying in agony, got to see Liz's breasts and Dave stuffed himself stupid. All in all a blinder and it beats weighing chickens for a living.
We'll gladly give this 8.5 haybales out of 11.
Cadburys Flake Eggs - The Way It's Meant To Be Laid.
Alf, I've got an idea for a website...