Oh rhubarb, how have they gotten it so wrong when it comes to enjoying your fragrant flavors?
From my childhood days on the Ohio farm, Grandma always welcomed summer with a homemade sickly sweet, ultra stringy, rhubarb pie. She was not just a good cook, she was a great cook who made cooking an in-home professional endeavor. Why then, oh why, did rhubarb turn out so wrong?
Until this week I had written rhubarb off of “The Summer Of Love Tour.” There simply was no love lost on this fruit. But, Carl has a virulent little patch in the backyard, and I decided to give it one more try.
The leaves in case you don’t know are toxic. So don’t eat ’em. The stalks cut up and boiled yield a tangy, lemony, zesty pink liquid that is amazing.
Since the trouble with rhubarb is in it’s texture, I decided to boil the rhubarb for its flavorful liquid and throw away the fibrous stalks after boiling. I also decided not to obliterate its unique characteristic tang with sugar.
From this lovely pink broth I made jelly, ice cubes, pictured below in champagne punch, and crunchy stalks that have been skinned and are nice cocktail stirrers, or you can munch like sour candy. EnJOY!
The Trouble with Rhubarb
Food Is Love Farm 