Who doesn’t love a good old-fashioned meat-juice IV? Take my little back yard rhubarb patch, for instance. This often-misunderstood plant, with its poisonous leaves and delicious stalks, is a straight-up carnivore. To keep the plants happy, we learned to bury fish and crab carcasses close beside them; they would gobble that stuff up by the pound. This summer, my husband took it a step further. He located a big outdoor garbage can with a cracked bottom and dug down a few inches in the center of the patch; into which low point he placed said can. Inside this can he built a multi-layer cake of dirt and fish scraps, added water to get the line flowing, and clapped the lid on tightly. Intravenous meat juice! Those rhubarb plants are happier than hogs in slop, and the bears are none the wiser.
And I am happy too! I have already jarred (no, I won’t go back to saying canned) several batches of rhubarb sauce, which is a fine stand-in for applesauce, and am planning to try my first batch of rhubarb syrup, which I am told goes well on pancakes. Stay tuned on that one.
I have also made my first rhubarb pie of the season. I am reminded of a time many years ago when I was heading to Virginia for a visit. I collected a pie’s-worth of rhubarb stalks and placed it in my carry-on luggage. When I got to Powhatan, I set about making a pie. My father, who would eat most anything, was overtly skeptical. I think he was imagining a pie made of Swiss chard or something. Anyway, one bite of the pie was all he needed to come about, and he humbly asked for a second helping. And then a third.
I for one am eating my daily allotted slice for breakfast, with a spoonful of vanilla yogurt on the side. Gentle readers, I invite you to share your rhubarb-related anecdotes below.
Rhubarb forever!
This post of your’s is inspiraing me to find ways of further fetilizing my rhubarb patch. I began with the straw which had been in the bottom of the chiken coop all winter. I laid it down carefully surrounding each plant without touching the bases of any of the plants. These large circles intersected with each other down the row of 4 plants. The golden straw makes a halo of the large, dark leaves. I am stumped as to what I can successfully use here. You have me yearning for fish guts!
Fish guts are always fun, and never in short supply in Southeast Alaska. Have fun experimenting with your rhubarb.
Oh, how I love a good rhubarb pie! And a good rhubarb coffeecake! And…you get the picture. We had three rhubarb plants by our back door, and when Bob built a deck by that door some years ago, I dug up the three plants, and he split them into 18 tiny root balls. Those indestructable plants came back next spring and continued to grow – we have a rhubarb hedge now.
The more rhubarb, the better, I always say! My next effort is going to be rhubarb custard pie.
Don’t forget strawberry-rhubarb. Also yummy!!
So true!
I haven’t tasted rhubarb, but your article makes me want to. Now tell me why our old gang would use “rhubarb” as a mild insult? Could it be that it can be said with such a lilt?
Rhubarb! Rhubarb! That being said, I have no idea.