i’ve spent most of my free time this past week holed-up in my house trying to make rhubarb jam. i’ve been making little one-pound batches on my stove-top.
before this week i’ve probably eaten the equivalent of one slice of strawberry-rhubarb pie. i always thought i hated rhubarb. when i was a kid i used to stare at it in my neighbor’s garden through the cyclone fence that separated our yards. i couldn’t imagine how something with giant leaves, that in my childhood mind must taste like spinach, could taste good.
this week i fell in love with this odd little vegetable (officially a fruit or vegetable in my home state of ny). it’s tart like citrus and if you stick your nose deep enough in the pot, i swear it has hints of vinegar in the aroma.
i started with a 60/40 fruit to sugar ratio. too sweet! the beautiful tartness was lost, and although still good, the rhubarb aficionados in my life insist on a pucker when they eat it. they suggested using lemon juice, but that defeats the purpose of a naturally tart vegetable, right?
so v 3.0 is on the stove as i write this. less sugar, bigger chunks. later rhubarb with a touch of strawberry…
