LAST week, we were making the most of the seasons, using Yorkshire’s very special forced rhubarb in an unusual but terrific combination with fresh mackerel.

This week, though, our favourite crimson stems find themselves in more familiar surroundings, the world of the pudding.

Rhubarb is truly one of the most wonderful gifts to the pastry cook; it has such a wonderfully memorable strident flavour, and can be used in hundreds of recipes from cake fillings to sorbets, compotes to jams.

It enjoys the company of other fruits, especially berries, and it’s enjoyable at all points on the sugar spectrum.

Sweet-as-you-like jam is wonderful, especially smeared on a simple buttered scone, as is a crunchy, oaty crumble, the topping concealing an eye-wateringly sour filling of iridescent pink stems.

Rhubarb loves vanilla too – there’s a reason rhubarb and custard is one of our favourite British combinations.

Something magical happens when that delicious sharp fruit meets creamy, rich comforting custard.

A bowl of just the fruit and custard alone is magnificent, but add a little pastry and you have something approaching pudding perfection.

I think rhubarb crumble and custard is very, very hard to beat, and would probably be up there in my all-time top five puds.

I’ve always wanted to try a version of the classic custard slice using rhubarb, and now’s the time to do it.

Remember, we only have until March before stocks of this fleeting treasure are exhausted for another year. Not that there’s anything wrong with maincrop, ‘outdoor’ rhubarb; I’ll be using this in dozens of recipes all through the summer. It’s just that the forced stems are just so exquisite – it’s always sad to see them go. So, to our recipe.

This time, I fancied using up a bit of stale bread, so the answer was right there. A charlotte.

These days, most cooks will think of a charlotte as being any dish using leftover sliced bread (or on occasion soaked lady-finger biscuits) with fruit, although the origin is actually thought to be in the old English word ‘charlyt’, roughly translated as ‘a bowl of cold custard’.

Many charlottes involve blancmanges and custards as fillings. Original recipes often also contained meat (our love of sweet and savoury has lasted in the form of pork with apple and sweet mint sauce with lamb, but there was a time when many recipes contained both sugary and meaty elements) but fear not, this recipe is 100% pudding!

Often, charlottes are ‘sealed units’, with bread completely surrounding the filling – think of a summer pudding as a charlotte of sorts – but they can also refer to desserts comprising layers of bread and fruit or, as in this case, a simple bread topping similar to a pie crust.

This recipe also makes use of a bit of frozen fruit, and raspberries are perfect here, adding their uniquely aromatic tart flavour to proceedings.

Strawberries are also amazing partners for all things rhubarb.

If you don’t have any frozen fruit, just make up the weight with more rhubarb.

A great way to showcase a true local treasure before it’s gone until January next year.

We salute Yorkshire rhubarb! Aprons on!

For the charlotte:

800g forced rhubarb

400g frozen raspberries (or strawberries)

A little fresh lemon juice

A few tablespoons unrefined golden caster sugar

8 slices bread, crusts removed, slightly stale

A little salted butter

A pinch of ground cinnamon

To serve:

Clotted cream

Extras:

A suitable pie dish

Method:

Preheat the oven to 200°C / Gas 6. Put the rhubarb, the lemon juice and a little sugar in a non-reactive saucepan and heat gently until the rhubarb is just about cooked through.

Alternatively you can bake it in the oven.

Add the frozen raspberries and check the sweetness level, adding sugar or lemon juice to get it just right for your personal taste.

Tip the fruit mixture into the pie dish.

Melt the butter in a small saucepan.

Cut the stale bread into quarters, then each quarter in two diagonally to make little triangles.

Arrange the triangles in an overlapping pattern on top of the fruit, and brush liberally with melted butter, then dust the top with a little extra sugar and a whisper of cinnamon.

Bake for 25-30 minutes or until the bread is golden and just beginning to catch on the edges, then remove from the heat and allow to cool for a few minutes.

Serve warm, with a good dollop of clotted cream.