My New Favorite Thing

In the nervous energy that always accompanies me before a big test, I decided to keep my hands and mind occupied with making roasted rhubarb. I was in one of those moods where I just needed to create something, anything. Luckily I do have some self control. I realized I couldn’t put studying off forever, so I begrudgingly set out to keep my creation in the simple realm. But in this case, as in most cases, simple turned out to be good.

I have always had a fascination with rhubarb. Growing up we used to grow it (or it grew itself really) in the garden behind our house. We did nothing to tend to it, but every year it would come and dazzle our garden with its brilliant red stalks. My mom would make strawberry rhubarb pies and rhubarb cobbler. I find eating rhubarb more sensory than eating other foods. It is pucker-inducing sour, but when cooked is dosed in sugar making it amazingly sweet. I haven’t had the time or patience for baked goods lately, but I did not want the rhubarb stalks in my fridge to go to waste, and lets be honest there was also a fair amount of procrastinating going on, so I began to look at recipes. I found jams, pies, cobblers galore, which all looked lovely, but it was the simplicity of this recipe that I found on The Wednesday Chef blog, that stood out. Side note: Her whole blog post is wonderful, about simple cooking techniques that transform how we think of food.

I have been on a sugar-free kick lately so I substituted the sugar for honey, and used the lemon juice per her suggestion. I chopped, I stirred, I roasted and then I glanced at the clock and in a flurry scraped the rhubarb out of the pan and scurried out the door to my study session. I did not think of the small bowl in my fridge until a day later. I went to grab the milk and there it was in all its hot pink glory. The rhubarb was okay plain, nothing rave worthy or crave inducing. It needed a little help.

Remembering my mother’s affection for Wasa crackers, goat cheese and fig spread I decided to do something similar. I spread a thin layer of goat cheese onto a multigrain Wasa cracker, placed the rhubarb on in lines, drizzled the whole concoction with honey and threw some flax seeds on top for extra crunch. Not only were the bright pink rhubarb pieces a lovely contrast to the white goat cheese, but the whole mixture was delicious. There was just the right amount of sweet and tang, crunch and softness. The perfect appetizer or healthy dessert.

Roasted Rhubarb
Adapted from Ruth Rogers's and Rose Gray's book, Italian Two Easy
Serves 4

3 medium rhubarb stalks
1 blood or navel orange or lemon
1 teaspoon of pure vanilla extract (or more to taste)
2 tablespoons of Honey
2/3 cup creme fraiche (I imagine this would be delicious)

1. Preheat the oven to 300 degrees. Cut the rhubarb into 2-to-2 1/2-inch pieces and place in a medium bowl. Finely grate the zest of half the orange over the rhubarb and then squeeze the juice of the whole orange into the bowl. Pour in the vanilla extract. Add the sugar and stir to combine.
2. Pour the rhubarb into a baking dish and arrange the pieces so that they lie flat. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes. Remove the vanilla pods. Serve with creme fraiche.

Now we shall wait and see what the nervous energy of waiting eight weeks for the test results brings to my table…

One part flour one part sugar one part water, all the spices your little hands can reach when you climb up on the counter. Place in a tubberware from the corner cabinet, stir with a tarnished silver spoon and place lovingly in microwave, cook on high for two minutes until solidifies and air bubbles start to break the surface. Feed to adoring parents and sisters. Realize later that eating a goey microwaved glob of sugared and spiced flour is an act of selfless love.

I used to make microwave cakes. My older sister, when she asked me to be her maid of honor last year said that one of the requirements was that I make hundreds of microwave cakes for the reception, she was joking. No one liked the microwave cakes, I didn’t even like the microwave cakes, but there was something riveting about the method and the completion that kept me making more. Thank goodness a girl named Caitlin gave me an Anne of Green Gables cook book for my eigth birthday and I turned years of attention to Mrs. Ira’s Delicious Shortbread. That was a turning point. Then there was foccacia, made from the Denver Junior League cookbook. The foccacia stage was simultaneous with a food colouring stage. I turned my shortbread purple, I whipped cream into green butter and baked hot pink pound cake (also from Anne of Green Gables).
In middle school I went rogue again and gave up recipes entirely for stir fries, pasta sauce, soups and salads with homemade dressing. Some were good, some where terrible, but like the microwave cakes all enthralled me. Since the beginning I have had a special attahcment to “substitutions”, and no attachment to measuring instruments. The creative high of searching the refridgerator and cupboards for an “almost”, the satisfaction of throwing things in until it tastes “just right”, I live for those moments! Lately however, I am breaking out of the substitute everything and throw it together philosophy that served me so well in college. With a real job comes a real paycheck which delightfully leads to affording all the ingredients of a real recipe. And these real ingredients and real recipes have strangely taken a priority standing in my life, far above fancy drinks, happy hours, a professional wardrobe, fixing my camera and re-heeling my shoes.

But since this is the beginning, I think it is necessary to start at my beginning. The first concoction I ever created that turned out well was rosemary potatoes. My parents liked them so much they had me make them for our visiting relatives. I felt encouraged, I felt victorious. I was ten and I had finally cracked open the secret behind food, after years of slaving over microwave cakes and shortbread I had created something that was my own, and was delicious. Never mind that rosemary and potatoes are paired together often, at this point in my life the union was a brillant discovery, and I have always liked rosemary because of it.

Rosemary potatoes:

Wash and cut three russet potatoes in cubes
Add olive oil to a cast iron skillet and heat
Add potatoes
Sprinkly generously with salt, pepper and rosemary.
Cook until the potatoes are browned and crisp

Simple, easy, but oh what a difference this one concoction made.