Damson Crumble

Photo © Rob Jones

If I see a bargain in the shops … I can’t walk past it. I buy it even if I have no use for it.

Same in the countryside …

On one of my dog-led walks this week, I am guided past a carpet of Damson windfalls.

First fly-by … assess the scene. How likely is it that someone else will come along and pick them up before I get a chance to.

Second fly-by …. pause to inspect at close quarters. Are they suitable?

Third fly-by - whip out a bag-for-life and gather as many of the Damsons as I can without attracting too much attention. And if I do… then … it’s a quick ‘Morning,’ as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Which it really ought to be.

If I had the space at home, I’d be spending my early autumns gathering, de-stoning, stewing, jamming, laying down, brewing, enough to see me through the winter.

A couple of years ago, I was tinkering with flavouring gin with damsons. That turned out fabulously … apart from, I don’t really drink gin. Bit of a dilemma.

Ruled out jam for lack of patience and recepticles.

So … Damson Crumble at had to be. Simplest thing in the world. Maximum flavour. Easy to share.

Wash and de-stone the damsons. Best done listening to an afternoon play on the radio.

Stew the fruit with a little sugar and a cinnamon stick. I like my stewed fruit ‘tart,’ but keep tasting the juice and adding sugar to taste. Into a shallow dish.

I used a packet crumble from the supermarket but jazzed it up with some broken up digestive biscuits, flaked almonds and a little butter. I like a healthy ratio of crumble to fruit.

Cook till browning on top.

Eat with ice cream, creme fraiche or cream.

Lovely.

R