The affair began innocently enough and, frankly, I never thought it would last as long as it has. I’ve enjoyed every minute of it, and still do.
It all started on a day in May — May 9 to be exact — with rhubarb.
The first column I ever wrote for the South Whidbey Record, more years ago than I can believe, was about rhubarb. At that particular time, we had three very hearty rhubarb plants flourishing in the garden plot in front of our Langley home, and
I had a lot of rhubarb to deal with, so it was natural to write about it and what to do with it. One thing led to another, and another, and here I am, still at it, so it seems only fitting now to revisit rhubarb, the Rodney Dangerfield of vegetables.
That’s one of the many wonderful things about rhubarb, however; pay it little or no attention, it will produce abundantly in spite of our disrespect. It’s one of the first signs of life and growth in the early spring, and will continue to give of itself well into the fall or even early winter. And, another important, added benefit, it’s among the very few things we can grow in our yard that the deer won’t eat before we can.
Rhubarb is also one of the oldest plants known to us; the earliest recorded use of rhubarb was in 2700 B.C., in China, and it’s still one of the most used medicinal plants in Chinese curative practices. It’s used as a purgative, fever and infection fighter, and is believed to promote blood circulation.
Whether or not it can actually do any or all of that I don’t know, but I can tell you that rhubarb is an excellent source of potassium and magnesium, high in Vitamins K, C and B6, folate, calcium, fiber, and with virtually no cholesterol.
In my grandmother’s time, rhubarb was better known as “pie plant,” because that’s almost the only way it was used. Rhubarb pie was and still is a heavy favorite in the dessert category in our family, but I’ve found so many other delicious ways to use the rosy red fruit, that pie has slipped a bit in the past few years.
And yes, I called it a fruit even though it is actually a vegetable because, in this country, rhubarb has been designated a fruit for some years now, primarily because general usage put it in that category.
How, you may well ask, can she be talking about rhubarb when the entire world has talked of nothing else since the first day of May but the death of Osama Bin Laden? Well, friends of the Record, that’s the real point, isn’t it? What can I say that hasn’t been said; what can
I add to the billions of words, conjectures, accolades as well as condemnations, that would be anything new. Ding, Dong, the Devil is dead; others will take his place. ’Twas ever thus.
So, I turn instead to reality as I know it, to that which makes up everyday life and leads me to believe that no matter what devils may attack or from where, we’ll find a way to prevail. God bless the rhubarb in our lives.
RECIPES
No pie recipe for “pie plant” today; there are too many other tasty ways to use this beautiful spring vegetable, aka fruit, including these.
RHUBARB MUFFINS
½ cup sour cream
¼ cup vegetable oil
1 large egg
1 t. almond extract (or use vanilla if you’re not fond of almond flavor)
11/3 cups flour
1 cup diced fresh rhubarb
2/3 cup brown sugar
½ t. baking soda
¼ t. salt
Preheat oven to 350 degrees and spray or lightly grease muffin tins for 12 muffins.
Whisk together to blend the sour cream, oil, egg and almond extract (or vanilla). Set aside. In another bowl, combine all remaining ingredients. Add to the sour cream mixture, stirring just until all ingredients are moistened.
Fill muffin tins 2/3 full; bake for 25-30 min. Serve warm (they’re delicious with a bit of cream cheese.) Makes 12 large muffins;18 “regular” size muffins.
There are so many uses and recipes for rhubarb compote, it’s difficult to choose, but the following compote recipe is a bit unusual; it’s tart/sweet and goes well with so many other foods that I think you’ll find it becoming a regular spring rhubarb accompaniment to salmon, chicken, lamb and especially duck.
BALSAMIC RHUBARB COMPOTE
3 T. balsamic vinegar
2/3 cup sugar
1 t. peeled grated fresh ginger root
2 rhubarb stalks, trimmed and cut crosswise into ¼-inch slices (or 2 cups frozen, thawed; reserve liquid)
In a small saucepan, simmer the vinegar with the sugar and ginger until the sugar dissolves. Stir in the rhubarb; simmer until the rhubarb is crisp tender. Using a slotted spoon, remove to a bowl; set aside. (If using frozen rhubarb, allow it only to come to a simmer then remove to a bowl and set aside.)
Bring cooking liquid back to a simmer and cook until slightly thickened, about 5 min., then remove from heat and stir in the rhubarb mixture. Serve warm or at room temp. Refrigerate any unused compote; warm when ready to use.
And this one is for my sister, who loves sabayon but complains that no one ever does rhubarb without including strawberries, but who loves fresh raspberries. I’ll e-mail her this column. She lives in New York City, and was the one who woke me, almost 10 years ago, screaming into the phone, “Turn on your TV, they’re bombing us…”
RHUBARB RASPBERRY SABAYON
1 cup chopped fresh rhubarb stalks (probably about two)
1/2 cup sugar
1 cup orange Muscat wine (or equivalent orange flavored sweet wine)
2 large eggs
Raspberries, ripe and fresh
In a heavy, small saucepan, bring the rhubarb, sugar and wine to a simmer; continue simmering, uncovered, until rhubarb is tender and begins to fall apart. Remove from heat; puree rhubarb mixture in a blender until smooth.
Divide the raspberries, putting them into the bottom of 6 stemmed glasses. In a deep metal bowl, beat the eggs with a hand mixer on med.-high about 1 min. Begin to add the rhubarb mixture in a stream (slowly at first so you don’t curdle the eggs), beating constantly. Put the bowl over simmering water and beat until tripled in volume and very thick, about 6 min. (or 160 degrees on an instant read thermometer). Remove from heat and ladle over the raspberries in the glasses. Serve immediately, with a raspberry or two on top. Serves 6 (or maybe only 2 if my sister and I happen to be together.)
