My wife makes a killer rhubarb dessert, so this afternoon while enjoying a scoop of it warm from the oven, with vanilla ice cream, I decided I had to reminisce a bit.
Rhubarb was part of our family’s diet from the time I was a kid. My father Garven especially loved the fresh rhubarb sauce Mom would make at first opportunity in the spring. I myself thought the sauce a bit thin, not substantial enough, and I was never thrilled by it. But not Dad – he was first in line after he would break off those early pink-and-green stalks and come to Mom placing his rhubarb sauce order.
Our mother Cora would dutifully make variations with rhubarb, but whatever she prepared, her consistent verdict over her final product was that it “needs more sugar.” I liked enough tartness to make my tongue curl, but Mom? It always “needs more sugar.” So, when she served rhubarb pie or strawberry-rhubarb pie for the family enjoy, she would quietly but inevitably go to the cupboard for the sugar bowl and generously sprinkle her slice of pie. “Needs more sugar.” I miss being able to tease her about that.
I can imagine both my parents had their fill of rhubarb to eat when they were growing up. The plant was plentiful and free for the taking. In fact, when money was tight, rhubarb must have been just the thing for the table. My father-in-law (who grew up in western Minnesota) had far, far too much rhubarb as a youngster: he detested it so badly you couldn’t have paid him to eat it — not even with extra sugar!
By the way, that great rhubarb Mary used for the dessert this afternoon came from my brother Phil and Yvonne who gathered those juicy stalks from the same patch Dad had planted when we were kids back in North Beaver Creek. That’s a few years ago! And the stalks can still be as thick as child’s wrist! Here’s the secret. The rhubarb patch location was perfect: right below the cow yard where the soil benefited from all those natural nutrients that would run off in a rain storm. Amazing that it’s continued to produce for all these decades.
How about it, cousins: do you have any rhubarb stories to share? I expect you too must have had experience with this unique garden produce which may generate either love or hate (like that other food called lutefisk). I’d love to hear from you.