In certain ways, I agree. I am down to about my last 12 strawberries, now carefully measuring them out for smoothies (what's that, one per week between now and the end of June?).
At the same time, my freezer remains as full as ever. This is for two reasons. First, I'm guilty of overly selective rationing -- always saving my precious frozen local blueberries and raspberries for a rainy day.
Second, I am guilty of hoarding -- freezing several bags of rhubarb, for example, with the thought that two of us will eat it all winter long, because I couldn't bear to just let the stalks wither and die.
And so as the ruby red leaves of the rhubarb plant beside our house begin to unfurl from the ground at lightning speed, I find myself with about four pounds of frozen rhubarb from the end of last season that need using up. What to do? Here most people are eagerly awaiting stalks long enough to actually break off, and I, having spent the last few weeks busily scouring books and magazines for rhubarb recipes, am setting myself up to be sick of it.
Last weekend, I made a decent dent in my stash by way of a cross between a cake and a pie. A biscuit dough makes up bottom and top pie shells, and rhubarb, citrus zest and a little sugar make the filling. The biscuit soaks up all the tart juices, and it's easier to handle than pie pastry. It'd be nice with brunch but we had it after supper one night (all that was missing was the vanilla ice cream).
Perhaps a savoury chutney would be a good option for the rest. The overwhelming amount I've got will cook down nice and small, then it could be canned, then stashed again or just given away. After all, it does me no good to be sick of rhubarb just in time for the fresh stuff. Making something with the first rhubarb of spring has become a rite I'd hate to lose my enthusiasm for.
Whether, like me, you've got a freezer full of rhubarb to attack, or whether you're anticipating the first harvest of your backyard plant, here's the recipe for that scone cake, which serves six to eight, from The San Francisco Ferry Plaza Farmers' Market Cookbook. Don't do as I did and forget the ice cream.
Rustic Rhubarb Scone Cake
For the dough:
3 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 cup sugar
pinch of salt
1/2 cup chilled, unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
3/4 cup of buttermilk
For the filling:
1 pound rhubarb (about five stalks), chopped
grated zest of one orange
1/2 cup sugar
1 egg white, lightly whisked with a little water
sugar for sprinkling on top
Preheat the oven to 350. Butter a 10-inch deep dish pie dish and set aside.
To make the scone dough, sift together the flour, baking powder, sugar and salt in a large bowl. Add the butter and, using a pastry blender, two knives or your fingers, work the butter into the flour mixture until the mixture has the consistency of coarse cornmeal. Gradually add the buttermilk, folding the wet and dry ingredients together until a soft, shaggy dough forms. Turn out onto a floured work surface and knead lightly just until the dough comes together. Don't work the dough too much, or it will be tough. Divide the dough into two equal portions.
To make the filling, combine the rhubarb, zest and sugar in a bowl and stir to mix well.
Roll out half the dough into a 12-inch round on the floured work surface and transfer it to the prepared pie dish. If it falls apart, don't worry. Just gently pat it back into place. Fill the dough-lined dish with the rhubarb mixture. Roll out the remaining dough into a 12-inch round to form a pastry lid. Brush the rim of the bottom crust with water and put on the lid. Press the to crust to the bottom crust to seal.
Brush the whisked egg white evenly over the top crust and then sprinkle lightly and evenly with sugar. Make three or four steam slits in the lid. Bake until the crust is golden brown and looks dry and the fruit is soft when tested with a knife tip through a slit, about one hour.
Serve warm or at room temperature.
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