And when I say rumble I mean rhubarb.My parents try to visit each week, which I love and which I find constantly impressive since they're pensioners and live over an hour away. It makes a great difference to my wellbeing and I'm delighted Bub gets to see them regularly.
A few weeks ago Dad greeted me with "I know you love rhubarb..."
I really don't know where he got this idea. Apple & rhubarb crumble was one of two desserts I'd turn down (rice pudding? What the?), plus anything else with rhubarb in it. (Similarly, Mum thinks I'm not a fan of lamb. I love shank, I love lamb roast and I used to specifically request crumbed cutlets. Did I mention the oddness of a recent spag bol made with lamb? I'm not sure, but it's otherwise a strange idea whose origin I cannot fathom.)
Anyway, the first time Dad brought rhubarb it was only two sticks, so we chucked it in an apple crumble and it was alright.
Last week he brought three sticks and, luckily, I don't hate it anymore.
I find the flavour hard to describe: It's the closest I've met that I'd actually call 'rustic'.
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