If a crisp is the gym bro, a crumble is the friend who shows up to brunch in pajamas and still gets the last mimosa. It’s the same concept, but without the oats. Just flour, butter, and sugar rubbed together until you get, well, crumbles. It’s messy, it’s forgiving, and it never judges you.
You dump this buttery rubble over fruit, bake it until it’s golden, and watch it crack like a desert floor. The best part? You can crumble it over anything. Peaches in July? Yes. Last week’s sad apples? Absolutely. A crumble doesn’t care about your life choices. It just wants to be warm and eaten with a scoop of vanilla ice cream while you watch reality TV.
Crisp, Crumble, Cobbler, Betty, or Buckle
