Butter. Full fat, unsalted. Toast them to the point the top is crunchy, but the rest is still soft, then spread the butter liberally and put them in the microwave for 15 seconds. Omnomnomnom.
My wife absolutely hates them - the look of them, the smell of them, everything about them makes her retch. Which makes the fact I bought two packets of them yesterday even more ov a WIN for me
I am quite particular about my crumpets. Have to be toasted twice on a very high setting so they are hard on top (think it because i used to toast them in front of a proper fire), then either butter or jam or peanut butter or cheese. Anything that goes down the holes. I have a pack in the freezer going to have to get them out and have some this afternoon
Around the age of 7,used to walk to the library in Dartford with dear, departed Dad every Saturday afternoon , returning with 8 books between us - mine either "The Bobbsey Twins" or a Famous Five type . ( This was before a lovely uncle started my interest in live football at Dartford FC)
Winter was best, with a roaring fire in the grate , curtains drawn against the dark & cold and the foootball results about to come through on the wireless. Mum & Dad did the pools every week and it was my job to take down the scores and see whether they'd become millionaires ....Then, it was tea time and often that meant hot buttered crumpets.
Toasting fork at the ready , we'd take turns to roast ourselves in front of the fire whilst performing the rite of "cooking" the crumpets. As each one was buttered and savoured, the next person took their place and so on and so on. Of course, there was an art to ensuring the crumpet was well toasted but not burnt and inevitably, the cry of " Just another minute" was halted by the whiff of black smoke emanating from said delicacy ....then much scraping over the kitchen sink was required to render the crumpet edible. Nevertheless, scorched or not, crumpets were an integral part of my family life in the 50's and will always remind me of those happy, carefree days.
went to an ethiopian restaurant once, and instead of rice or bread with the curries, they served what seemed like gigantic flat crumpets with everything, give it a go creepy?
went to an ethiopian restaurant once, and instead of rice or bread with the curries, they served what seemed like gigantic flat crumpets with everything, give it a go creepy?
An Ethiopian restaurant? Not entirely sure why but that just sounds plain weird to me!
went to an ethiopian restaurant once, and instead of rice or bread with the curries, they served what seemed like gigantic flat crumpets with everything, give it a go creepy?
An Ethiopian restaurant? Not entirely sure why but that just sounds plain weird to me!
it was really odd, especially when they brought out the gigantic crumpets
Around the age of 7,used to walk to the library in Dartford with dear, departed Dad every Saturday afternoon , returning with 8 books between us - mine either "The Bobbsey Twins" or a Famous Five type . ( This was before a lovely uncle started my interest in live football at Dartford FC)
Winter was best, with a roaring fire in the grate , curtains drawn against the dark & cold and the foootball results about to come through on the wireless. Mum & Dad did the pools every week and it was my job to take down the scores and see whether they'd become millionaires ....Then, it was tea time and often that meant hot buttered crumpets.
Toasting fork at the ready , we'd take turns to roast ourselves in front of the fire whilst performing the rite of "cooking" the crumpets. As each one was buttered and savoured, the next person took their place and so on and so on. Of course, there was an art to ensuring the crumpet was well toasted but not burnt and inevitably, the cry of " Just another minute" was halted by the whiff of black smoke emanating from said delicacy ....then much scraping over the kitchen sink was required to render the crumpet edible. Nevertheless, scorched or not, crumpets were an integral part of my family life in the 50's and will always remind me of those happy, carefree days.
Around the age of 7,used to walk to the library in Dartford with dear, departed Dad every Saturday afternoon , returning with 8 books between us - mine either "The Bobbsey Twins" or a Famous Five type . ( This was before a lovely uncle started my interest in live football at Dartford FC)
Winter was best, with a roaring fire in the grate , curtains drawn against the dark & cold and the foootball results about to come through on the wireless. Mum & Dad did the pools every week and it was my job to take down the scores and see whether they'd become millionaires ....Then, it was tea time and often that meant hot buttered crumpets.
Toasting fork at the ready , we'd take turns to roast ourselves in front of the fire whilst performing the rite of "cooking" the crumpets. As each one was buttered and savoured, the next person took their place and so on and so on. Of course, there was an art to ensuring the crumpet was well toasted but not burnt and inevitably, the cry of " Just another minute" was halted by the whiff of black smoke emanating from said delicacy ....then much scraping over the kitchen sink was required to render the crumpet edible. Nevertheless, scorched or not, crumpets were an integral part of my family life in the 50's and will always remind me of those happy, carefree days.
I love that post FF, lovely
Aw, thanks, AFKA.
Speilberg's currently negotiating for the rights to film " Fanny's Memoirs - Life before Charlton " !
Fanny, are you the lady that lives across the road from my uncle John & auntie Val?
John sometimes travels with you to games if I've got the right person!
I live 2 doors from a John & Val in Dartford but have only travelled to The Valley once with John. Sometimes walk away from the East Stand with him on the way to our cars.
Oh FF, it brings back the memories. Living as I did on the edge of the North Downs - we tended to get more and prolonged snow if it was cold.
My mates would congregate at our place - toboggans at the ready (or plastic sheets, or basically anything that would slide). Dad, little sister et al would set off. wrapped up like Nanook Of The North, to a proximate slope for hours of blissful, simple fun. Then home to a roaring fire. Mum would always have a supply of crumpets or crumpet substitute (bread for toasting). Out would come the two prized toasting forks. Soon the room was filled with that heady mixture of smells of scorched bread and melted butter,and the noises of earnest discourse of football or some issue of political importance. They were great, magical days.......wipes away a tear.
Always gone for just butter on crumpets and never tried the Marmite, in fact derided girlfriend for the habit, but after all the positive reviews on here...Il give it a go.
Comments
Love a nice bit of crumpet!!!!
My wife absolutely hates them - the look of them, the smell of them, everything about them makes her retch. Which makes the fact I bought two packets of them yesterday even more ov a WIN for me
(Particularly the bit at about 2:20)
Aaaah ! The memories....
Around the age of 7,used to walk to the library in Dartford with dear, departed Dad every Saturday afternoon , returning with 8 books between us - mine either "The Bobbsey Twins" or a Famous Five type . ( This was before a lovely uncle started my interest in live football at Dartford FC)
Winter was best, with a roaring fire in the grate , curtains drawn against the dark & cold and the foootball results about to come through on the wireless. Mum & Dad did the pools every week and it was my job to take down the scores and see whether they'd become millionaires ....Then, it was tea time and often that meant hot buttered crumpets.
Toasting fork at the ready , we'd take turns to roast ourselves in front of the fire whilst performing the rite of "cooking" the crumpets. As each one was buttered and savoured, the next person took their place and so on and so on. Of course, there was an art to ensuring the crumpet was well toasted but not burnt and inevitably, the cry of " Just another minute" was halted by the whiff of black smoke emanating from said delicacy ....then much scraping over the kitchen sink was required to render the crumpet edible. Nevertheless, scorched or not, crumpets were an integral part of my family life in the 50's and will always remind me of those happy, carefree days.
Has to be the cheaper ones, almost burnt, the first butter only, the second with raspberry jam. No one has the same crumpet fetish yet!
Posh crumpets are too doughy for me.
agree with that
mmm not sure about that, but might give it a go as you normally have good taste ;-)
Aw, thanks, AFKA.
Speilberg's currently negotiating for the rights to film " Fanny's Memoirs - Life before Charlton " !
...or maybe that should be " Fanny's crumpet " ?
Have a GREAT Christmas with those lovely boys ( and of course, Mrs AFKA !)
I live 2 doors from a John & Val in Dartford but have only travelled to The Valley once with John. Sometimes walk away from the East Stand with him on the way to our cars.
Have we met ????
Peanut butter is a good option but butter + Frank Cooper's Vintage Oxford Marmelade is the Daddy of all Crumpet toppings.
This thread has got me wanting a Crumpet so bad I've making my Wife bring me over a pack when she flies out to Canada on Christmas Day.