The crumbles of my youth were either apple or rhubarb, the latter, oozing a greeny and pinky hue from under a delicious golden rubble. Apple ones were just as delicious, mostly, but were generally lighter in texture, and that's no bad thing. But if you didn't know your apples, you might end up with a pale green pulp redolent of apple sauce which wasn't quite the effect desired. That is why, in my opinion, you shouldn't let a Bramley apple near a crumble - A personal view admittedly. I like chunk, sweet appley chunk, with a waft of cinnamon in the vicinity.
I decided to add a splosh of elderflower cordial to the mix for two reasons. One: apple and elderflower is delicious, and two: It was in the cupboard and I often like to add it to sparkling water. Whilst the finished dish will not have you thinking 'Wow! Elderflower!' I do think it adds a hint of something quite pleasant.
The crumble recipe I give here is very approximate. Indeed, I recommend you don't follow it because you will have your own idea about how you like your crumble. And the recipe I use changes every time. Basically, I am looking for something that looks like biscuits that have been bashed with a rolling pin, which when you taste it raw, should be rubbly, sweet, salty, 'buttery' and these days nutty. And you need plenty of it: Now is not the time for restraint when it comes to making a crumble. I want some of the underside to dissolve into the fruity soup below, to give that rib sticking effect, and I want the top to caramelise nicely as the butter and sugar mingle and melt. I would also be extremely disappointed if some of the molten fruit did not seep up through the edges of the rubble, creating pools of dense fruitiness here and there.