Growing up, rhubarb grew every summer in our backyard. So basically for me rhubarb tastes a lot like nostalgia.
That backyard was a magical place full of make believe. The swings, the apple tree, the row of lilac bushes, the wood pile, the a-frame, the gravel pile, the cool muddy bit underneath the deck, the willow tree (later only a stump) & catnip.
My mother would often make the rhubarb into a delicious cobbler. I did that as well last year. But this year I decided to make another one of my favorite rhubarb treats.
I looked hopefully into every stand at the farmer's market week to week, until finally I found one stand selling this prized plant. I wish I remembered which farm they were from; they gave us the rhubarb in a brown paper sack with an adorable stamp (pictured above).
We have Princeton Produce to thank for the strawberries. And straight out of a fairy tale these berries are. Dainty & fragrant & the sweetest-strawberriest little morsels you ever did have the pleasure of eating.
To make the jam you start with about one pound of rhubarb diced & one cup of strawberries mashed. Then you bring them to a boil. Add a little over one cup of sugar & boil for twenty minutes.
You do have to stir pretty much constantly, but those minutes flew by for me. The smell of rhubarb & strawberry & strawberry-rhubarb & rhubarb-strawberry & the quiet bubbling were enchanting. And I enjoyed watching the fruits slowly blend together & deepen in colour.
Standing over a hot stove on a cool day making something sweet is my idea of contentment. If it isn't for you, then this may not be the recipe for you. But if you don't try it, you're truly missing out.
The finished product is my favorite version of my favorite jam ever. & there is no small matter of pride & feeling of accomplishment involved.
Favorite Song for today (led to in a more or less direct way by my favorite radio station):
No comments:
Post a Comment