Rhubarb: reminiscence and a recipe

It’s odd, the objects or events that trigger the strongest memories. For me, it’s rhubarb. Every summer I look forward to the short season of good rhubarb. I love to eat it. My favorite is strawberry rhubarb pie. Every time I have ever bought rhubarb, a fellow customer or the check out person, or all of the above, see it in my cart, and say “OH! Rhubarb! What are you going to make? I love rhubarb!” My answer is usually “Pie,” always followed by “My Grandma taught me how to make it.” This, more than anything else that makes me think of her, makes me remember.

Several years ago I wanted to make my first strawberry rhubarb pie but hadn’t the first clue about how to make rhubarb, so I emailed my grandma. She sent me an easy recipe, which I made, and it’s now the touchstone for all my rhubarb dessert recipes. She passed a lot of things on to me, intellectually, materially, and emotionally, but this for some reason is a stand-out. It may be that the ones who ask me about it in the grocery store are all older, or it may be that I have her passion for trying new things, or that cooking is a love of mine and I like to think I also got that from her. Or all those things.

I spent many hours emailing with her even though she lived in town. It was fun. I think if she were alive she’d have a facebook. During my college and seminary years I’d go visit with her at her house. She’d scold me if I needed it, laugh with/at me, pump me for the latest gossip, we’d talk about movies, if I’d been on a trip lately I’d show her my pictures, then we’d get in her T-bird and go to lunch. As my mom’s mom, she’d give me a perspective on my parents I’d never thought of. When she was ailing in a rehab facility, we kept it up as best we could.

Florence Marvin died in March of 2005, one month before I turned 24 and got engaged, 7 months before I got married. Every life event, every trip I take, every good movie I see, is always tinged with the thought “but I can’t tell Grandma about it.”

So yesterday, when I bought rhubarb, the cashier asked me what I was going to make with my rhubarb. I told her my answer, “Strawberry rhubarb pie… my grandma taught me how to make it.” An elderly man was bagging my groceries and he told me how his mom and aunt LOVE rhubarb but I should have an extra slice for him because he doesn’t like it. Helping me out, we talked about how my baby is due on Friday, how it’s my first, and how excited my husband and I are.

Tomorrow my son is due to be born. Whether he will be “on time” remains to be seen. I wish so much that my grandma was here to meet her 5th great-grandchild. I think she’d like his name. I think she’d laugh at me for the amount of food I’ve been making and eating this week just because I’m bored. But most of all, I hope she’d be proud of me.

Here is her simple recipe:

Preheat oven to 350. Rinse, dry, and slice as much rhubarb as you’re making into bite size pieces. Put in a pan in a single layer. Sprinkle liberally with sugar. Bake until tender, checking after 10 minutes.

To make my pie I make the rhubarb, let it cool, slice fresh strawberries into a pie crust, top with rhubarb, then add more strawberries. Sometimes I leave it at that. Sometimes I add cool whip and/or strawberry glaze. Today I added cinnamon to the rhubarb before baking. It’s gonna be good.