Apple Crumble Cream


Are you after Apple Crumble Cream? Perfectly smooth and creamy apple flavored rum goodness? Then this is for you! I found this recipe on the internet and thought you might find it useful.  I’ve tested it myself and I can confirm that it tastes delicious. I can’t think of anything better than spooning a big dollop of Apple Crumble Cream into my mouth. It has a thick, caramel-style consistency with little chunks of apple which makes it taste so delicious and is the perfect way to finish my meal.

Nutty Professor’s Apple Crumble with Whipped Cream


Apples looked gorgeous at our Farmer’s Market this week, and at $1 a pound, I felt like I was committing highway robbery. So I bought 8 pounds! I have no clue as to what I will do with all these apples, but my husband wanted Apple Crumble with no frills. Just plain old apple crumble. He eschewed all of my suggestions- no candied ginger pieces, no caramel bottom. So I decided to go nutty.

Ingredients send grocery list
  • Apple Crumble
  • 1/4 pounds semi-tart apples (I used 4 medium McIntosh and 4 medium Northern Spy)
  • 2 tablespoons flour
  • Juice and Zest of One Lemon
  • 1/4 cup sugar
  • 1/2 teaspoon Vietnamese Cinnamon (heaping!)
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground cardamom
  • 1 cup chopped pecans
  • 1 cup sliced almonds
  • 3/4 cup All-Purpose Flour
  • 1/2 cup Dark Brown Sugar, packed
  • stick of Butter, cubed
  • Chantilly Cream
  • 1 cup Heavy Whipping Cream
  • 2 tablespoons Extra Fine Sugar
  • 1/2 teaspoon Vanilla Extract
  • 1/2 teaspoon Almond Extract
  1. Apple Crumble
  2. Heat oven to 350 F and lightly butter a 9×13 pan.
  3. To Make the Filling: Peel and core the apples and slice them about 1/4 an inch thick. Add the lemon juice, then the sugar, flour, and spices. Make sure the apples are well coated. Pour the mixture into the prepared pan- make sure to make an even layer.
  4. To Make the Topping: Pulse the flour, butter, and brown sugar in a food processor until the butter is a little larger than peas. Add the nuts and pulse again until well incorporated. Pour the topping on top of the apples.
  5. Bake for 40-45 minutes, until golden and bubbly.
  1. Chantilly Cream
  2. Using a stand mixer with the whisk attachment, beat the cream on the highest setting. Slowly add the vanilla, almond, and sugar while the whipping cream thickens. Beat until soft peaks form.

Apple Crumble Cake With Cream

Warm or cold, this cake with apple and a dark crumble topping is the kind of food I like to eat at home. I’m reliably informed it’s Bramley Apple Week in the UK. Seriously though, do we need a week to appreciate apples and cake together? I don’t think so!

As we say around here; “it’s mucky awuld weather” outside.  The wind is howling up and down from the beach with drafts of pelting rain which are wet. I mean wet rain, as opposed to the lighter, drizzly stuff that makes it a soft kind of a day. This is harsh weather, it’s ruddy cold too.

Apple Crumble Cake 3-001

I’ve a warming broth ready for when hubby gets home from work and the Apple Crumble Cake slice isn’t long out of the oven.  Perhaps it’s not what everybody would call romantic but making the time to share a meal together when the kids are gone to bed is the best we can do lately. So I try to make the best food possible for us to dine in style.

Both dishes are proper winter warming material. Perhaps the best accompaniments to the cake will be a good pour of fresh cream and lashings of hot tea to wash it down. I’m still very much in love with the Avonmore Fresh Dessert Cream, the perfect side to match a classic apple tart or this Crumble Cake. The beauty of this cream is that it’s already slightly sweetened and half whipped. This is the source of much Christmas Day strife in our family as my hubby and their brothers vie for their “puddy” with pouring cream, whipped cream and both. I say hang the hassle, expense and just use Dessert Cream instead!

The recipe serves 16 people very comfortably. I bake it in a deep square earthenware dish. You need something deep to hold the 3 layers so that they don’t spill off over the edge.  The cake section is denser than a normal Victoria sponge as you need it to hold the pieces of apple on top of the sponge, rather than them falling below the mixture.


  • 6 Bramley Apples
  • 1 Lemon
  • 100g Rolled Oats
  • 75g Dark Brown Demerera Sugar
  • 75g Butter, softened
  • 200g Caster Sugar
  • 200g Butter, softened
  • 2 Medium Eggs
  • 250g Plain Flour
  • 1 Teaspoon Baking Powder
  • 1 Teaspoon Ground Cinnamon


Peel, quarter and core the apples. The pieces should be large, not small slices. Put them into a large bowl, cover with water and squeeze the juice of the lemon into the water. Stir well.  This will stop them turning brown while you prepare the rest of the Crumble Cake.

Preheat your (fan) oven to 180 degrees Celcius and line your baking tray/tin well.

In a large bowl, beat the dark brown sugar and 75g of softened butter together until you have a brown, nearly fudge-colour batter. Stir in the rolled oats. It will get a bit clumpy, so use a fork to separate them out a bit.

Finally, to make the sponge, cream the remaining butter and sugar together. Add the eggs one by one, continuously beating so that you have a light batter. Once the eggs, butter and sugar are well mixed, add the flour, cinnamon and baking powder. Beat well so that you get a stiff batter.

Spoon the batter into your lined baking tray/tin. Using the back of a wetted spoon (this stops the batter from sticking to it) smooth out the batter evenly. Next place the pieces of apple on top of the cake batter and finally sprinkle the crumble mixture on top.

Bake in the oven for approximately 45 minutes. Check the very centre of the baking tray with a cocktail stick/skewer after this time to see if any batter sticks. If you get a wet result, then bake for a further 10 minutes. If the skewer comes out dry and clean then remove the Crumble Cake from the oven.

Allow the cake to rest for about 30 minutes in the tray before carefully lifting and slicing. Serve with lashings of fresh cold, cream.

How to eat: apple crumble

Apple crumble: the ultimate comfort pud.
Apple crumble: the ultimate comfort pud. Photograph: Liv Friis-Larsen/Alamy Stock Photo

In the bleak mid-winter, How to Eat is seeking comfort in apple crumble. But with custard or cream? Should other fruit get a look-in? And is dessert wine gilding the lily?

And so here we are, in January, a month as bleak as an interpretative dance production of Threads (musical arrangement, Thom Yorke). You may eke out the stragglers from the Christmas snack stash to console yourself: the sorry Oreos, the orange Matchmakers, the who-bought-these pistachios?, but this is your life now. Work and winter. In Britain. In 2020. Doesn’t feel great, does it?

Which is why, this month, How to Eat – part regular series on how best to enjoy Britain’s favourite foods, part humanitarian outreach programme – is focusing on that most comforting of desserts, apple crumble. Superlative self-care in sweetened fruit and nubbly, buttery topping, the crumble is, for all its seeming inviolability in the Bunterish pantheon of great British puds, a surprisingly new addition to the calorific canon. It may even be an American import of sorts (where it is known as apple crisp), given the earliest print recipes for the crisp-slash-crumble are both found in US cookbooks, in 1924 or 1950, depending on who you Google.

Logically, antecedents existed long before that (the Victorian Delia, Mrs Beeton, was scattering breadcrumbs over baked plums in the 1860s), but, on both sides of the Atlantic, it appears WWII rationing catalysed the crumble’s popularity. With eggs, butter and sugar scarce and flour poor quality, the crumble was a convenient short-cut instead of making a whole pastry case for a fruit pie.

Those make-do-and-mend origins may explain why, by the 1980s, people were swapping the crumble for cornflakes. An idea almost as bad as contemporary attempts to give the crumble a luxe edge by (kill me!) adding nuts, chocolate, coconut or crushed biscuits to the topping. A few oats – this is not muesli! – may, like a pinch of salt or playing with different ratios of various sugars, add depth to the crumble mix. But, fundamentally, the essence of this favourite of everyone from Luciano Pavarotti to Mark Gatiss, is how simply it pivots around two or three flavours. Crumble, as How to Eat (HTE) will now outline, should not be complicated.

The fruit

No buts, it has to be Bramley.
No buts, it has to be bramley. 

You would think in an apple crumble (tip: the clue’s in the name), the fruit would be uncontroversial. It’s apples, right? Judiciously sweetened but still-tart cooking apples (eg bramley), with a third of the total softened in a little reduced apple juice and spices before baking to give the filling a fluffy, almost pureed edge around the larger pieces of fruit. Simple. This is no place for sweet golden delicious, pink ladies and gala eating apples. Such varieties are an unpredictable nightmare when cooking. Some disintegrate readily, others retain a firm shape entirely unsuitable in a crumble.

However, home-cooks and anxious chefs, trying too hard to justify their wages, frequently find it impossible to stick to just apples. Blackberries are added, pears, fibrous XXXL rhubarb, raspberries, irretrievably-sour gooseberries. You name it. Someone will throw it in. None of this adds pizzazz. Or maverick new dimensions of flavour. Instead, it invariably creates a muddled meh of fruity confusion where you should be experiencing in pure apply joy.

Portion control

A crumble takes shape
A crumble takes shape. 

The unnecessary prettification (prissy-fication?) of food, over-elaborate presentation and/or a neurotic desire to erase any hint of mess or evidence of human fallibility from the plate, is a subject that deserves a PhD’s worth of analysis. Suffice to say, in apple crumble, as in so many things in life, form should follow function … and flavour. Attempts to “style” a crumble are a recipe for disaster.

Individual apple crumbles served in ovenproof pots or tiny ramekin dishes are mistaken on several levels. First, the unpierced crumble will maintain a dangerous temperature far longer than you would ideally want and, second, where do you put the sauce? In a jug? In another bowl? Why do I have to eat some crumble first before I can pour it in?

Even worse, as any chef worth their salt will tell you, are those for-elegant-read-idiotic experiments in deconstructing the apple crumble into its individual components. The crumble’s very appeal lies in its elements melding together as they bake.

It should then be served in such a way that, and preferably in one smooth action, you can scoop up a little sauce, crumble and fruit at the same time. To that end, the only way crumble should ever be presented – aesthetically, think: 1950s farmhouse kitchen – is in great steaming clods in wide, shallow bowls that allow easy access from all angles. Such a rough-and-ready approach embodies the homely vibe you should be looking to convey. Serving your crumble topping-up is preferable, but crumble that in the portioning-out has collapsed on its side is acceptable. Note: clumsily serving it upside down, with the topping at the bottom of the bowl, is taking this aversion to cheffy presentation too far. It smacks of inverted snobbery. Having to dig the crumble out is no fun. It is the best bit.


Choose cream, not custard.
Choose cream, not custard. 

A large dollop of whipped double cream is by far the best accompaniment. You don’t want a sauce that will overwhelm the crumble. You want the crumble topping to stay crispy, not soggy, and in terms of flavour, you want an emollient edge, a lubricating lick of something rich and cooling … yet, ultimately, innocuous. The power dynamic here is not Ant and Dec, Starsky and Hutch, Fabio and Grooverider. The crumble and sauce are not equals. The sauce should never attempt to assert itself as the dominant partner.

Some will agitate for clotted cream over whipped, here. Ignore them. Be honest, clotted cream tastes nauseatingly “off” and has all the dense textural allure of toothpaste. It is hideous stuff.

As for ice-cream, there is something unappetisingly jarring in that contrast between piping hot crumble and freezing ice-cream. The overt grittiness of the last crumble as it sits in melted ice-cream is, moreover, a poor way to end your crumble experience.

Pouring cream suffers from the same issue in the last few mouthfuls. But will you get that far? Single or even double cream can feel oddly “thin” lapping against a robustly muscular apple crumble, while at the same time (unlike whipped cream, which has a lighter, airier profile), use too much of it and its intensely creamy flavour can smother the crumble; its nuances lost in that creamy quagmire. Paradoxically, pouring cream is too thin texturally and too much in its flavour.

Custard strikes HTE as a bizarre go-to in this context (and in many others). A gently cooling sauce is preferable to one that will seal heat into your pudding. No one wants to wait even longer for their crumble to cool to a safe temperature and, in custard’s case, the sauce will begin to form an unedifying skin as you do. That is even before we get to custard’s cloying and often thickly oily texture, not to mention its unpredictable quality.

Like Fray Bentos pies and Heinz tomato soup, any nostalgia you might have for Bird’s custard peters out after a few mouthfuls. It is all a bit vapid. At the other end of the spectrum, when was the last time you ate a posh pouring custard that was smooth as silk and redolent with flavours of fresh yolks and real vanilla? Moons ago, HTE would wager. Is that even desirable? The custard is supposed to be a supporting actor in this heartwarming Sunday-night drama. A brilliant custard will, like cream, shout down the cinnamon, cardamom, ginger, dark sugar and fruit flavours that give a crumble its heady charisma.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

TheSuperHealthyFood © Copyright 2022. All rights reserved.