This week, we’re invited to share something with a cherry on top: a real one or a metaphorical one. As my last post was of cherries, I’m going with a crumble.
It was a rhubarb one, though you’ll have to take my word for that. With vanilla ice cream, berries, and a smear of berry sauce (sauce sounds so much tastier than coulis).
The cherry on top? That would be the pansy, though, as you can see, a couple of the rose petals had made a valiant attempt to claim that honour.
Edible flowers are a thoughtful touch but, to tell you the truth, I’m not wild about eating them. These ones were pretty but didn’t taste of much and their texture was… well, limp. You might think that would make an interesting contrast to all that crumbly crispness, but it’s a gentle reminder that not all contrasts are particularly instrumental.
But I distinctly remember the flowers adding an eager, mental ‘ooh!’ to the experience of seeing the dish arrive, which has got to be a good thing. After all, a pudding without an ‘ooh!’ isn’t really a pudding.