Okay, so, it’s time to get real with you guys: I fucked up. This is something I cooked basically a month ago but has been too uninspiring to even bother writing about until now. And somewhere in that time I, apparently, deleted all the photos I took of this recipe. Soooooo this one is pictureless. Use your imagination, I guess. Whoops. And if this terrible start hasn’t pulled you in, then you are just hopeless. (Also, the Portland Mercury wrote a little shout-out to me, and now I feel a lot of pressure to not let the wonderful Alison Hallett down.) Anyway, Seasonal Crumble!
Way back in November, faithful readers may remember I was still living on my friends’ couch, still hopelessly searching for an apartment, aided by nothing but my own determination, and a box full of cunt balls. Nora and Mandy, my two gracious hosts, were finally throwing a housewarming party a mere three months since moving in, and I wanted to contribute. A seasonal crumble seemed perfect, even though I was kicking myself for not making this during the summer, when I could have used peaches and blackberries. Instead I would be stuck with apple, which is fine, but not nearly as exciting. Alas, the plight of a lazy blogger.
But stuck with apple I was, so after a trip to Trader Joe’s (and oh my god am I happy not to live near a Trader Joe’s in Brooklyn because those places in the city are insane), we returned to the apartment to set up for the party. Nora made her famous dip and tried to mix an alcoholic cider while the rest of us criticized her hesitation at adding too much alcohol, Mandy made her famous red velvet cake balls, and I got to work on the crumble.
Much like the rest of this cookbook, the actual recipe was far too easy. Dice up your fruit, put it in a baking dish. I sliced up my apples and tossed them in, and then added my secret ingredient (blackberries, which I had purchased on a whim, even though they were out of season, because I wanted some more flavor in my crumble, SORRY FOR BREAKING THE RULES). On top of that I dumped some flour. I don’t remember how much; this happened a month ago.
To make the crumble topping, I mixed some softened butter, whole rolled oats, and brown sugar in a bowl with my hands, which is turning into one of my favorite things Gwyneth makes me do. I don’t know what it says about my fetishes, but I LOVE kneading softened butter with my fingers. I’m sure there’s a whole section on the NYC Craigslist where I could make money off of doing only that, but we’ll save that for when I get a little bit more desperate for money.
Anyway, I put the crumble on top of the fruit and baked it for however long Gwyneth told me to bake it for. And then I took it out and forced people to eat it with the ice cream, and everyone at the party commented on how wonderful the store-bought ice cream was. So that should tell you all you need to know about the crumble.