Pear and port crumble

This is one of my favourite recipes. Mainly because I made it up and everyone loves it so that makes me feel squishy inside. And secondly because it requires zero measuring or weighing just a lot of ‘judging’ by eye. My favourite sort of baking!

Get some pears. I used 8. Tonight I used fresh so I peeled, cored and chopped them (roughly).

While I was doing this, Will was making the crumble. Crumble is such an ace thing for kids to make – they can’t really go wrong AND they get to get their hands dirty. What’s not to love?

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I used a whole block of butter (250g), a heap of flour (I would estimate 400g) and a pile of sugar (half a packet so I reckon about 500g). I don’t like my crumble healthy.

I sloshed a healthy amount of port over the pears (that I’d put in the crumble dish), covered them with foil and put them in the oven at 150 degrees centigrade for almost 2 hours. I checked on them every now and then and gave them a stir and a splash more port. Ahem.

While this was happening I got involved with the crumble.

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It’s for tomorrow night so I had time to take the pears out the oven and leave them to cool, still under the foil, before putting the quite frankly unnecessary amount of crumble on top. Tomorrow I will bake it for around 45 minutes until it is golden and bubbly and then eat it with plenty of cream.

Bloody lovely.

The gingerbread house that was not

So. This is embarrassing.

When GBBO was still on our screens, Hannah over at Mama Bear With Me set up a gingerbread house competition. Yesterday I checked the closing date, found out it was, indeed, yesterday, and begged for an extension.

And so to today.

I didn’t have the ingredients.
We went shopping.
We came home.
Will did not nap (this is a recent thing and one that does not always end well, for either of us)
We made gingerbread.

Here’s how it went.

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Problem 1:

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Yeah, my syrup went off in September. You see where this is going. I used it anyway.

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So far so good.

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“No, mummy! No, mummy! No, mummy!” He had to roll out the dough himself (while eating it, is tasted great!)

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“Weeeyam cut cut, weeeyam cut cut” Again with the independence.

Did you read about his will power? It was out in force today!

But there was another problem that was more about me. Kinda like the not having ingredients, or having ingredients that went off a couple of months ago. I didn’t read the recipe. So when Will was insisting on rolling and cutting the dough himself, he should have been doing it on greaseproof paper, not on the work surface. Because, turns out, when you try and move the rolled out dough, it falls apart (and has to be squidged back together). Like so.

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Anyway, we battled on, cooked the pieces, cooled the pieces and attempted to assemble the pieces.

Attempted.

And gave up. Those rough edges were never going to make a house. It wasn’t worth the tears.

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We decorated them and ate them. They tasted bloody good and surely that’s all that really matters right? Right? *tries to convince inner competitive perfectionist slowly drowning herself in gin in the corner*

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