Elrondo Sparklebeard’s Culinary Exposé: Why Fairies Shouldn’t Be Trusted Near a Buffet (and Why Elves Do Christmas Right)

Red Dragon Writer
Jul 16, 2025
3 min read

Greetings, mortals, mischief-makers, and those who think a “balanced diet” means a biscuit in each hand. I am Elrondo Sparklebeard, Supreme Spokeself for the Elf Liberation Front, social media sensation, and the only elf with a palate so refined I can detect the difference between a Waitrose mince pie and a Tesco’s in a single bite. Today, I bring you a tale of culinary horror, festive feasting, and the shocking truth about fairies’ eating habits—so scandalous, even the Daily Mail once ran a headline: “Are Fairies Secretly Cannibals? Elves Say: ‘We Told You So!’”

A whimsical fairy casts her enchanting spell, sending a shower of sparkling fairy dust to fulfill a heartfelt wish.

Don't let the picture fool you into thinking their cute. Rubbish!

Let’s start with the basics. Fairies. You know the type: all wings, sparkles, and unsolicited life advice. “Believe in yourself!” they chirp, while simultaneously eyeing your sugar bowl like a magpie at a jewellery sale. But have you ever stopped to wonder what these glittery gremlins actually eat? If you have, you’re braver than most. If you haven’t, well, buckle up—because the truth is stickier than a toffee pudding in July..

According to ancient folklore (and several questionable tabloid articles), fairies subsist on a diet that can only be described as “culinary chaos.” Dewdrops, flower nectar, moonbeams, and—brace yourself—other fairies. Yes, you heard me. The Daily Mail once breathlessly reported that fairy feasts sometimes include “wings of their own kin, lightly sautéed in dandelion oil.” Now, I’m not one to spread gossip (unless it’s true, juicy, or involves biscuits), but I’ve seen enough midnight fairy raves to know: if you leave your wings unattended, you might not get them back

Compare this to the sophisticated palate of elves—especially those of us blessed with the Christmas gift. We’re not talking about your common garden variety elf, the sort who thinks a dandelion salad is haute cuisine. No, no. I mean the elite: the Christmas elves, the connoisseurs, the ones who know their eggnog from their advocaat and wouldn’t be caught dead eating anything that glows in the dark.

Our festive table is a thing of beauty. Eggnog, rich and creamy, spiced just so. Mince pies, each one a tiny masterpiece, with pastry so delicate it could make a grown goblin weep. Biscuits—oh, the biscuits!—stacked high, iced with care, and guarded by a battalion of nutcrackers. We elves understand that Christmas is not just a season; it’s a state of mind (and a state of perpetual sugar rush).

Let’s break it down:

Fairy Food Pyramid (If You Can Call It That):

Dewdrops (hydration, but make it impractical)
Flower nectar (for the vegan fairies)
Crushed moonlight (don’t ask how it’s harvested)
Cake crumbs (stolen from children’s parties)
The occasional “friend” (see: Daily Mail exposé)

Elf Christmas Menu:

Eggnog (with a hint of nutmeg and a splash of mischief)
Mince pies (served warm, with a side of smugness)
Biscuits (shortbread, gingerbread, and the legendary Sparklebeard Snaps)
Mulled wine (for the grown-ups; hot chocolate for the under-300s)
Absolutely no relatives on the menu

Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Elrondo, surely fairies aren’t that bad?” To which I say: have you ever seen a fairy at a buffet? It’s chaos. One minute, the trifle’s untouched; the next, it’s vanished, and there’s a suspiciously sticky set of wings fluttering away. Meanwhile, elves approach the table with grace, poise, and a well-rehearsed plan of attack. We queue politely, we compliment the chef, and we never, ever eat anything that used to have a name and a Twitter account.

And don’t get me started on fairy “cheat days.” While elves might indulge in an extra mince pie or a second helping of brandy butter, fairies go wild—honey-dipped acorns, glazed spider eggs, and, if the rumours are true, the occasional rival from the next mushroom ring over. It’s enough to make a gingerbread man faint.

So, this Christmas, when you’re tucking into your festive treats, spare a thought for the fairies. Maybe leave out a biscuit or two (just in case), but keep an eye on your pets, your pudding, and your own wings—if you have them. And remember: when it comes to culinary sophistication, elves have it cracked, fairies are cracked, and the Daily Mail will print anything if you bribe them with a mince pie.

Yours in festive feasting and fairy-free biscuits,