For as long as I can remember, my family has been in the habit of growing and cooking our own fruit. Growing up, supermarket-bought jam or bread was a rarity in our house, and we always seemed to have jars of home-bottled marmalade and elderflower cordial stacked in the cupboard.
Although in recent years we’ve lost the allotment that used to supply endless boxes of raspberries each summer, we do have a few things growing in the back garden. One of them happens to be a rhubarb plant, which is finally producing a multitude of large, vibrantly coloured stalks.
As yesterday marked the first day of fresh rhubarb in the house, it was felt by all that turning it into a crumble was a completely justifiable way to spend the evening.