Fool for rhubarb

Every May, the rhubarb patch in the garden gets transformed into glorious pies to accompany the rest of my birthday dinner (some combo of ribs/lobster, mashed potatoes and artichokes/green beans). Needless to say, I was crestfallen to be stuck in my dorm room in Quebec eating pb+honey+banana for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

So now that I'm home, I am attacking this overgrown vegetable with a vengeance. Yesterday's project came from La Tartine Gourmande, which counts as continuing my French immersion.


I would have better photos but in what I foresee to be a trend, my lovely father ate them all before I could get my hands on the camera. Tonight's dinner, Nigella's linguine with mushroom, lemon and thyme sadly befell the same fate. I grabbed a bit too much rhubarb and luckily had some extra puff-pastry and so made this quick mini-pie:

I've never been a strawberry-rhubarb believer. The whole point of rhubarb, to me, is the delicious almost sour tart-ness. Chomping on stalks dipped in sugar, or enjoying a nothing-but-rhubarb pie lets the true, delicious flavour shine through and strawberry combos only cover it up/are too sweet for my taste.

Rhubarb being rhubarb, this made but a dent which means once I get my hands on The Perfect Scoop from the library I'm planning to attempt Rhubarb Crisp Ice Cream along with family favourites like Szechuan Ginger and last year's delightfully boozy Margarita Ice Cream.