Rhubarb

I wish I could say I had a fabulous vegetable garden taking flight in my backyard, now that the growing season is upon us. Alas, gardening is not my hobby. Cooking is. But I know the two link up, and so it was with a mix of anxiety and excitement that I recently bought myself a copy of Gardening Basics for Dummies.

The prospect of bringing food from my backyard into my kitchen is an exciting one. In years past, it’s merely been potted herbs from the front porch and – no thanks to me, since it came with the house – my rhubarb plant. As I write this, it’s been growing so quickly I can practically see it moving.

Thankfully, having a rhubarb patch requires no gardening prowess. Most of us luck into them as we do a patch of lily-of-the-valley or a lilac tree. But it’s the surest sign of spring when those fuschia stalks start pushing their way stubbornly through the soil and the green leaves start unfurling. Its appearance is the heralding of the farmer’s market season and of several blessed months of fresh, local produce.

And so for the last few weeks, I have been tiptoeing around the side of my house, watching that rhubarb as it progresses along in its journey, willing it to get big enough that I can snip a few stalks and have my way with them in the kitchen. Pie is far too predictable, so I’ve been digging around for new ideas this year. And I’ve found some good ones.

Among my robust files of snipped-out recipes (so many good intentions!) I found something from Food & Drink called Rhubarb Champagne Cup. This involves making a syrup from rhubarb, sugar, orange juice and water (boil, simmer and strain) and mixing it with some chilled prosecco. Dreamy! I’m heading up to Kingston this weekend with my best girlfriends and I’ll be pillaging my rhubarb patch beforehand so I can take this up to make pre-dinner (or maybe brunch?) cocktails.

I also came across a couple of interesting pork recipes, including Hot and Sour Rhubarb with Crispy Pork with Noodles (in Jamie Oliver’s new book, Jamie at Home – a lovely book for ideas for garden produce) and, of course, an obscene amount of recipes for sweet things – tarts, custards, fools, grunts, crumbles and the like.

The most intriguing one I found was for Hungarian Shortbread, a recipe from Chicago pastry chef Gale Gand from the book Baking With Julia (as in Julia Child). Here you make a rhubarb-vanilla jam and drizzle it over shortbread dough that has been chilled in the freezer and then grated – with a cheese grater! – into the pan. Then you grate more shortbread on top, stick it in the oven and dust the whole thing with some confectioner’s sugar when it comes out. Heaven. I’ll be taking those to the girls this weekend, too.

Between the shortbread, the cocktails, and all that time to sit around and catch up, I should be well-fuelled to hit the backyard upon my return – a slave to the garden of my dreams.
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