Très tragique

We have all had a few tragedies in our day I’m sure, but some of us have had a few more than others. The word tragedy is perhaps a little strong as it conjures up more serious events, I however am talking about “tragedies”. Those events that were so totally devastating at the time but now, in hindsight, are actually pretty amusing and are the stories we often share and laugh about. I have had my fair share of these sort of tragedies. For me, tragedy started striking early. There was the time that I fell down a flight of concrete stairs with my arms zipped inside my jacket, the time I decided to draw a raggedy ann doll face on my own face with markers, then there was the time that I ran over our dog Max while racing down a hill on my bike, and the time I was biking so fast that I missed my corner and hit a telephone pole… the list goes on.

But aside from the physical tragedies, kitchen tragedies also started early too. There was the cornstarch and powdered sugar debacle (which I may have mentioned before), the time I sneezed into the cookie dough and of course the time Ginger and I did an extra thorough cleaning job on my grandma’s cast iron pan. As I’m sure you can see, I didn’t have a smooth start in the kitchen.

While I may not be the most graceful person around town, I have gotten things a little more under control. It has been so long since my last kitchen tragedy that I really couldn’t even tell you about it. Now instead of kitchen tragedies, more often you will see what I like to call “kitchen disaster bombs” around my house. The disaster bomb differs from the tragedy as it isn’t rooted in failure, but rather it refers to the beautiful mess left by a cooking project. This delicious, tart and sweet rhubarb crumble was a total kitchen disaster bomb! The remains of which can still be found sprawling across my kitchen.

One of my favourite and regularly under used spring time treats in rhubarb. This vegetable, as it turns out, is often times just a conduit for strawberries. Strawberry rhubarb this and strawberry rhubarb that, what about just rhubarb? Last spring, a favourite dessert to come out of my kitchen, was a plain old rhubarb pie. Calling it both plain and old really isn’t fair, because it was nothing of the sort, but it’s simplicity was delightful. This spring I am hoping to make a few more rhubarb-centric kitchen disaster bombs, starting of course with this Rhubarb Crumble, which was inspired by a crumble over at Local Kitchen.

Rhubarb Crumble

Filling
½ brown sugar
1 tablespoon cornstarch
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zest and juice of 1 lemon
pinch of fleur de sel

Topping
¾ cup flour
⅔ cup almonds, toasted and chopped
½ cup old fashioned rolled oats
⅓ cup brown sugar
½ tsp fleur de sel
⅓ cup butter, melted
pinch of fresh ground black pepper

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

Make filling: In a medium bowl mix together sugar and cornstarch. Add the rhubarb, lemon juice and zest, and salt. Mix well to incorporate all the ingredients. Set aside.

Make topping: Combine in a large bowl flour, oats, almonds, sugar, salt and pepper. Using a fork blend in the melted butter.

Make crumble: Transfer rhubarb and all its juices to a 9-inch baking dish. Using your hands press the crumble into large chunks and place it on top of the rhubarb sprinkle with remaining smaller bits of the topping. You can use your hands to even out the crumble so that all the rhubarb is covered.

Place baking dish in the oven on a rimmed baking sheet, in case of drips. Bake until golden brown and the juices are bubbling, about 40 minutes. Serve hot or at room temperature and always topped with ice cream!