My memories of rhubarb crumble go back a long, long time - back to my childhood and farm holidays in the south-west of England. Every year my parents would take us to Somerset, Devon or Cornwall and we would spend the first week on one farm and then pack up to go to another for the next. One of my clearest and fondest memories is being woken up at half past three in the morning to find my father at the bedroom door announcing it was time to get up and go on holiday, we were so excited. In those days there were no motorways and the journey could take anything from 12 to 14 hours in our little salmon pink Triumph Herald.
