Anyway, we had a lovely weekend, stayed overnight on the Saturday, and as a parting gift my mate chopped some rhubarb stems out from this clump and sent us on our way. I don't know about you but I love rhubarb, and I especially like it in a crumble. Mmm mmmmm.
So, we arrive home and the rhubarb is stashed in the kitchen. A few days later as I am passing the kitchen door one evening I see Mrs L at the far end just adding crumble topping to the crumble dish. Ah-hah! I know what that is! I started to salivate at the thought of what was to come, it has been a very long time since I had a rhubarb crumble and I couldn't wait! Dinner was served and I gleefully headed to the table. The green crumble dish was there, centre stage. A bit unusual that dessert was out before a main course, but on reflection I would be perfectly happy just eating rhubarb crumble on its own.
It was haloumi and couscous.
What the? I have rarely experienced such crushing disappointment. From a distance, couscous looks a lot like crumble topping, and there was no mistaking the dish. Why did she use the crumble dish? This was last week and I am not sure I have yet recovered. Meanwhile the rhubarb is still on the kitchen counter. Calling me. Taunting me.
I just thought I would mention this in case anyone else has a similar tale of unrequited lust and bitter disappointment that is any way comparable. To be honest I would be surprised, but who knows what lurks out there in blog land? Please do share any thoughts below.
As a constant reader of your blog, I am delighted when you include musings about travel, domestic matters, food and matters non-avian. Gardening and plants are fine with me. When I was on the university 'Grounds and Buildings Committee' I was instrumental in having two beds of cycads planted by the flight of stone steps that are the main entrance to the campus. Ten years later they look fantastic - and that was because of one of your interests that introduced me to the beauty of cycads.
ReplyDeleteHi Martha, sounds amazing, can you send a photo via Vera or something?
DeleteWhen I was about four, I went shopping with my Mum and she bought bananas. We didn't often have bananas (this was 1954) so this was a bit of a treat, especially for me as I really, really liked bananas. Come teatime, scrambled eggs appeared - where were the bananas? For tomorrow I was told. I was grief-stricken, had a huge tantrum and could not be consoled. I had been consciously looking forward to those bananas all the time since we got home from shopping. Anyway, this has always been known since as "The Banana Incident" - even my husband knows about it and we use it as shorthand for any event where you are denied gratification of an expected treat. As indeed The Rhubarb Crumble Incident will be in Chateau L.
ReplyDeleteYes, grief-stricken sums it up.
DeleteA great story, exactly what I had hoped for. How do you cope in supermarkets today?!
The two great comments above illustrate nicely why I so enjoy an eclectic blog. Which gives me an idea for a future post...
ReplyDeleteShare and share alike.
DeleteOne day I will surprise you all with a "I went here and saw this" post!
You could, of course, try your hand at making the "fabled" crumble yourself though it might create the dreaded "precedent". I speak from experience ---.
ReplyDeleteThe very real danger there is of ending up with a rhubarb and couscous crumble.
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