Nourishments—

Rhubarb: A Spring Thing

By Nancy K. Crevier

My mother did not have a lot of time to tend to the garden that she planted each spring, but one crop she never worried about was the rhubarb. The rhubarb grew in a row all along the short side of the fence. It was growing there when we moved into the house, and still growing there nearly a quarter of a century later when we sold the house.

Every spring, the rhubarb was the first vegetable to push its way through the garden, often beating the asparagus by several days. The ruby nubs of the sprout would appear and practically before our eyes, lift from the ground and unfold into the heavily ruffled leaves held aloft on thin, red stems shot through with streaks of green and white.

Every spring, we children in the neighborhood were unable to resist a challenge of who could eat a stalk of rhubarb, raw and unsweetened, and not spit it out. It was a riot of contorted faces and twisted tongues, puckered lips and scrunched up noses as we vied for the dubious honor of having choked down an entire portion of the oh-so-very-tart rhubarb. The contest invariably ended with chunks spat to the ground and a rush for a glass of Kool-Aid to wash away the lingering bitter flavor. But oh, what a difference when that same sour stalk was dipped into a bowl of sugar and delicately nibbled as an afternoon treat, or simmered in honey or sugar.

My grandmother treasured the young stalks of the rhubarb, and turned them into delicious desserts like rhubarb and strawberry pie, rhubarb sauce for ice cream, and rhubarb bread, tart and sweet at the same time. Rhubarb jam bubbled on her stove top, scenting the air with a sweet cinnamon aroma. For although it is classified as a vegetable, rhubarb is nearly always used as a fruit.

We didn’t know it then, but rhubarb is a surprisingly decent source of calcium — 10 percent of the daily value in a one cup serving — and of vitamin C, with 16 percent of the daily value in a serving, and vitamin K, with 45 percent of the daily value in that one cup. We just knew it was a tantalizing addition to the menu.

We picked the rhubarb, gave away rhubarb, and froze rhubarb, but the amazingly prolific plants continued to produce. Eventually, we had had our fill of fresh rhubarb and as the weather warmed, the stems began to grow tough. Even  when the rhubarb had ceased to be a culinary treat, though, the plant itself  remained an ornamental addition to the garden. The inedible leaves continued to grow all summer long, many as large as a platter, creating a low hedge of deep, dark green. The rhubarb patch was where we knew we could find our cat, Mittens, on a hot summer day, hiding in the cool shadows cast by the leaves.

I have tried for years to encourage a crop of rhubarb in my own garden, envisioning the rhubarb patch of my childhood, the row of thick leaves stammering in the breeze, and narrow stems barely holding them up to the sun. I don’t know what my mother did, beyond raking away the debris of winter and pulling a weed here or there, but I do not have the magic touch. My garden remains without one stalk of rhubarb.

So, like many others, I wait for the short period of time in which the seasonal vegetable appears in the produce section of the supermarket, and quickly snatch up a bundle. Because while I cannot grow it, I can cook it. And each spring I have my own private contest in the kitchen, breaking off a piece of raw rhubarb, and chewing up the memories.

Rhubarb Bread

2/3  C canola oil

1¼ C brown sugar

1 tsp vinegar

1 C whole milk

1 large egg

1 tsp vanilla

1½ C diced rhubarb

½ C chopped walnuts

2½  C flour ( half whole wheat is fine)

½ tsp salt

1 tsp baking soda

Add vinegar to milk and set aside. Stir oil and sugar together, then add egg and milk mixture. Beat until smooth. Stir in vanilla.

Combine flour, salt, and soda. Stir in rhubarb and nuts.

Add to wet ingredients and mix well.

Pour into two greased loaf pans.

Sprinkle each with ¼ c granulated sugar mixed with ½ teaspoon melted butter.

Bake at 350 degrees for 45 to 55 minutes, until top is golden and toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.

Cool in pan for half an hour. Run a knife around the edges and remove from pan. Continue cooling on rack.

Rhubarb Sauce

2½ C (about four large stalks) of diced rhubarb

3 tsp lemon juice

1/3  C honey

¼ C agave nectar (or use all honey for a sweeter sauce, or all agave for a less sweet sauce)

2 tsp ground ginger

¼ tsp cinnamon

1/8  tsp salt

Place all ingredients in a stainless saucepan. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low and cover. Cook for 5 minutes, stirring now and then. Remove cover if sauce threatens to boil over. Remove from heat. Rhubarb should be very tender. 

Serve warm with vanilla ice cream. Top with a strawberry.

For a slightly thicker sauce, stir  in 1 teaspoon corn starch dissolved in 1 tablespoon cold water after sauce comes to a boil and stir well before continuing to cook on low heat.

When less sweetener is used, this sauce can also be served with grilled chicken or swordfish.