RHUBARB…a happy sign of spring


                       RHUBARB CRISP  an easy recipe

This afternoon I cut an armful of rhubarb .   The first of the season.  My knife sliced through a thick, red stalk.  My mouth puckered,  remembered  taste.  I am eight or nine years old.

We are raiding the rhubarb patch.  Gathering an armful of stalks, faces hidden behind the enormous leaves.

In the shadowy green hideaway of the vine-covered  summerhouse  we  dip the stalks  into the sugar bowl over and over again.

Sated we make hats of the gigantic leaves . Dance madly,  waving rhubarb like exotic fans.  A pagan ritual.    A sugar high.

Rhubarb is in season.

You’ll love this recipe .  The crunchy struesel topping balances  the sharpness of the rhubarb. My favorite way of serving rhubarb crisp is with a pitcher of thick cream.  Then everyone can be as indulgent as they desire.  Click MRS BUTTERFINGERS for this and other wonderful recipes.




12 thoughts on “RHUBARB…a happy sign of spring

  1. I bought some rhubarb at the farmer’s market this past weekend and I was prepared to bake a pie, but at the last minute I was overwhelmed by childhood memories of my grandma’s cold rhubarb compote that we used to drink during hot summer days and made that instead. I will have to try this recipe next. My husband has been asking for a rhubarb pie….and he does not even like sweets usually, so I have to bake one. Thank you for the inspiration!

  2. Gorgeous prose!! I love the flashback: “Sated we make hats of the gigantic leaves . Dance madly, waving rhubarb like exotic fans. A pagan ritual. A sugar high.” I’ve always wanted to make a rhubarb sweet. And now I’ll have the dance ritual to think about as I create the dish. Brilliant, Virginia!! Perhaps I’ll also make a hat. “Gathering an armful of stalks, faces hidden behind the enormous leaves” is also a beauty. Thanks for the short story. Here’s to blossoming!! Theadora

    • And here’s the awful truth. When I walk out into garden to pick rhubarb I check to see if anybody other than the Summer the horse is watching. I gather the rhubarb and then do a little dance wildly waving the leaves. Hey, a girl’s just gotta have fun. Virginia

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