Rhubarb, Springtime's Burlesque Dancer
Plus three great ways to use it, so it's not upstaged by those floozy strawberries.
Rhubarb starts off the spring with a bang. Unlike the other spring arrivals in my garden, with their tender, light green leaves and demure, tiny blossoms, rhubarb bursts out of the ground, an otherworldly, wrinkled protrusion, opening up with small, dark green leaves that quickly become as big as my face. Those leaves are attached to equally showy stems, redder than anything else in the garden. Rhubarb is my garden’s burlesque dancer, hiding the sexy stuff underneath its big, flashy fan-like leaves.
As common as rhubarb is in much of the US, it is not a native plant to North America. European immigrants brought it here in the 18th century, after it was grown and used for centuries as a medicinal root in China, and spread throughout Asia and Europe over eastern trade routes.
Although usually treated as a fruit in Western kitchens, rhubarb is not a fruit at all, nor is it a vegetable. It is an herb, in the same family as buckwheat and sorrel, and although its leaves are big and flashy, they’re too toxic to eat. However, its stems, wantonly colorful and tart, become lusciously tender when cooked just long enough, and melt away to silky softness when cooked to their limit.
When paired with balsamic vinegar, rhubarb becomes a savory ingredient in a deeply flavored reduction, that can be used alone as a sauce, combined with olive oil to create a vinaigrette, and paired with local honey in a smoky, sweet-tart glaze for roasted meats or vegetables. The recipes for all three are waiting for you at this link.
Rhubarb dances and sings, “It’s finally spring, start celebrating! Right this way, your table’s waiting!” Enjoy some rhubarb, and you’ll feel like dancing, too.