Mark Scherzer of Turkana Farms does the honors this week, with one small interjection by Peter Davies. We've been writing a lot about our animals lately, but there's another explosion of life happening on the farm these days of high mid-spring: vegetables. I thought we should devote some attention to them. (Minerals can come later.) The particular vegetable that seems to cry out for attention right now is none other than rhubarb. It presents in the garden as something quite homely. Yet we have given it center stage in a very large circle that dominates the view when you enter our vegetable garden. The big, coarse, poisonous leaves hide the intense Campari-red and shiny celery-green of the stalks. Its phallic white flower stalks are pretty interesting, but we snap them off as soon as they appear to keep the energy in the leaf stalks. I'd have to admit, we weren't thinking aesthetically when we decided to make a permanent rhubarb bed our centerpiece. This is uncharacteristic for us, as Peter is so deeply committed to creating a farm that pleases the eye. (Says Peter: Actually I thought it would be very decorative, which it is.) We were lucky when we moved in to find a small rhubarb patch established by the former owner next to what became our driveway. It is not far from a clump of ancient white lilacs and an oak tree we planted along the drive. The increasing shade created by the oak every year has led directly to the dwindling of that patch, and last fall we decided it was time to divide the roots and start a new patch in an environment where the rhubarb would thrive.. At the same time, we wanted to transition some parts of the vegetable garden to lower maintenance production, to cut down on the weeding that threatens every year to overwhelm us. The sunny center of the vegetable garden, enriched by a huge pile of compost, was where the rhubarb landed, satisfying both goals. And satisfy it has. I understand from a neighbor that we're not the only ones experiencing a bumper rhubarb year, but I'm still quite stunned by the productivity (perhaps thriving in part because it is in new soil), and thrilled to observe how little maintenance this circle requires, as intruding weeds are shaded out by the big leaves. Now that we have all this product, it means we must find a market for it, requiring that we convince all of you to partake. Enjoying spring rhubarb is an older taste, for those who predate the year-round availability of produce provided by supermarkets. As we recall, older people like our former octogenarian neighbor Mrs. Thayer always greeted our gifts of rhubarb with enthusiasm, seeing it as a spring tonic. Unfortunately, for present generations used to that illusory land-of-plenty, the supermarket, rhubarb may seem like a relic of another time. Rhubarb faces an additional hurdle: Unlike almost everything else we pick in the vegetable garden, it really does need to be processed in order to be enjoyed. Biting into the tart stalks in their raw state involves a little more sourness than most folks can take. Wikipedia tells us that rhubarb is indigenous to Asia (it takes its name from Rha, the former name of the Volga River, on whose shores it appears to have originated), and that traditional Chinese medicine uses the rhubarb roots for its strong laxative qualities. It is known that the English began eating the stalks in the 17th-century when, significantly, large quantities of sugar became commercially available. Rhubarb was brought to America in the 1820's through Maine and Massachusetts. Rhubarb enjoys our climate, requiring at least two months of cold, and another season of cool wet weather. Spring is considered its prime season. It has never been at home in the Deep South or Southwest. As we have discovered, come summer, rhubarb should be left with its remaining stalks (no more than half should be harvested) to regenerate for the next spring. Once established, the roots seem to regenerate indefinitely. Why should we eat rhubarb? Possibly Mrs. Thayer was right, and it does serve as a tonic. What is more certain is that the fresh intensity of the flavor screams spring. Rhubarb goes well with creamy and sweet things, like strawberries, cream, and custard (a fabulous rhubarb custard pie recipe follows). It freezes beautifully. It is high in dietary fiber, antioxidants, and Vitamin C. It can serve as a digestive. And, according to Dr. Wiki Pedia, regular consumption of fresh rhubarb helps lower blood pressure Ok, we admit rhubarb custard pie is a bit of a production, but easy recipes rhubarb compote, rhubarb crisps, rhubarb chutneys, even a rhubarb daquari are easily found on-line. For something really novel, try these drinks based on rhubarb simple syrup, as suggested on the website www.greenegrape.com :
Rhubarb Simple Syrup Adapted from a recipe by Carrie Floyd, from the Culinate Kitchen Collection 1½ cups rhubarb, roughly chopped 1 cup sugar 1½ cups water Place rhubarb, sugar, and 1½ cups of water in a saucepan. Bring to a boil, then turn down to a simmer. Cook for about 15 minutes, until the syrup is bright pink. Remove from heat and cool. Strain syrup into a large jar. Reserve cooked and strained rhubarb for use as a compote over ice cream. The simple syrup can be used in any number of cocktails or as this easy, non-alcoholic Rhubarb Soda 1 cup of ice 1 oz rhubarb simple syrup 1 oz lime juice 3 oz soda water/ Pour syrup, lime juice and soda water over ice. Garnish with slice of lime or a strawberry. Rhubarbarita We use the classic proportions of a margarita, substituting lemon vodka for the tequila. 1 1/4 oz Hangar One Buddha’s Hand Citron Vodka 1 1/2 oz fresh-squeezed lime juice 1 oz rhubarb simple syrup Combine in shaker with ice. Shake vigorously. Serve up in a cocktail glass or over ice in a collins glass with a splash of soda water. —Mark Scherzer
