The problem with fruit crisps, if there is one, is that they don’t last on our kitchen counter. Tito and I can blow through a 9″ x 13″ pan full of crisp in an evening and a morning, hunching over bowl after bowl of steaming fruit, topped (always) with plain yogurt. It doesn’t matter what kind it is. We each have a helping after dinner, then again before bed, and even after bemoaning our bulging bellies, we dive straight in after our morning coffee. When I’m on my summer crisp kick, it’s a problem.
When I say I was too lazy to make an apricot crisp, which is what I bought all those apricots for, what I really mean is that I was too lazy to begin disciplining myself about my crisp intake. I wanted a way to enjoy that sugary, buttery topping just once, without the temptation of enjoying four portions of sugary, buttery topping in the span of time between dinner and breakfast.
So as usual, I improvised: in a small bowl, I used my hands to blend together 2 tablespoons each of flour, whole oats, brown sugar, and butter, which was enjoyable in and of itself because it gave me the wonderful tactile experience of making homemade, handmade pie crust, only the quantity was small enough not to hurt my wrists like working with a few hard, cold sticks of butter does.
Anyway. I squished the flour, oats, brown sugar, and butter together until all the oats were involved, added a dash of cardamom (but cinnamon or ginger would also be delicious) and piled the resulting crispish topping on top of 2 apricots, which had each been halved and turned cut side-up in large greased ramekins:
I baked them for 25 minutes at 375 degrees, which gave me two little cups of not-quite-crisp. It was more like soft, baked apricots, covered with oaty topping that had spilled onto the floor of the ramekins and was just begining to caramelize there. I wouldn’t call it gorgeous; it didn’t bubble up pools of gelled fruit liquid the way a good crisp does, but scooped on top of yogurt, it made a dessert that satisfied our fruity dessert cravings without leaving us the option of eating it for the next consecutive twelve hours, which I appreciated.
Only now, thinking about it mid-morning, I could really go for some apricot crisp.
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