All of my best friends have one thing in common: they love to eat delicious food (and plenty of it). It took me a while to notice that every single one of our reunions revolved around dinner, but I can’t say I was surprised. Whenever we’re together we swap our favourite recipes, moon over biscuits and brownies, daydream about Niagra-sized chocolate fountains, and groan our way through home-baked puddings, clutching our stomachs and swearing that, next time, we’ll stop after seconds (or not).
Last night I had the pleasure of a catch-up with Mimi, a friend I have known since Day One of my House-Sharing Years. When it comes to making puddings, Mimi has zero restraint, and since we met she has fed me more double cream, more melted chocolate and more slabs of butter, than anyone else put together. For that, I am forever in her debt.
And so to last night, when, to my utter delight she arrived with not one, but two dishes of apple and raspberry crumble (along with a carton of cream, of course). As she popped them into the oven, we heard the customary chorus of needless excuses, including: “I’m sorry… I think the crumble topping’s too thick” (Puh-lease! As if such a thing is possible! Who wouldn’t want more crumble topping? Crumble is all about the topping).
Anyway, just as I knew she would, Mimi did an excellent job. Oh God. It was stellar, actually; practically messianic. The fruit was just right (not too sweet, thanks to those lovely tart raspberries) and the cream kept our mouthfuls mellow. As for the topping, it was was thick, crunchy, golden and meltingly moreish. Everything I had wished for – and more…
I had four portions and am not ashamed. I would’ve had five, but have saved the last bit for tomorrow – prolonging the experience, you see. Only thing is, she’s awakened the bug – the crumble-craving lunatic inside me – and he won’t go away until I’ve filled him up. Now that I think of it, my mum does a good’un, with pears, dark chocolate and hazelnuts.
Now, where did I put those tins…?