Apples (preferably russet)
Sugar
Crumble mix
Slither of thumb skin
Tears
Butter
Rising shouting
(to be done with someone who you will end up arguing with) stand side by side and chop hundreds of apples (your favourites are russet) - you are cooking this crumble for an event; a banquet. An attempt to bring friends and family together.
The discussion becomes heated as hundreds and hundreds of apples pile up around you. An immense feeling of despair rises above the worktops.
Turn to your aggressive companion to say something, accidentally, a piece of your thumb gets cut off by your own knife. It gets lost among the piles of apple slices.
Blood streams and your cheeks become hot as your eyes search for your piece of thumb amongst the russet slices.
But still you must continue to make the crumble that will bring friends and family together. Healing crumble, you think to yourself.
Then follow the tears as you gently fry the butter and sugar together in a massive pot.
Your cheeks are burning and so is the sugar. Oh dear, take the pot off the heat to cool.
‘Need to find a plaster for my thumb!’ You think to yourself, looking at the apples surrounding you. The aggressive companion now, nowhere to be seen. He fled as soon as things started hotting up…
3 hours later, the mountains of apples sit dejectedly as brown creeps across their skins. The kitchen air is hostile and the butter has long evaporated.