“Is it gauche to post recipes on my blog?”
“What? Why would it be?”
“Well,” I mumbled, “I don’t want to become one of those food blogs that have acres of text before a not-really-that-great recipe. I don’t know. Is it cliche?”
“Definitely not,” said my best friend. “It’s not like you’re optimizing for search or getting ads. You cook depending on what’s around you, on your relationship to the land and garden. Do it.”
“Ok.”
Welcome to my first recipe post.
I don’t really know if what I’m about to share is really a recipe, though? I’m frankly not that great at following recipes. Or writing my own. I cook based on feeling and taste in the moment. There are so many times where I come up with something, my partner and I look at each other, and say at the same time, “Damn, we have to write this down.”
I never do.
And can never recreate it.
Which I’m not super sad about. Part of the joy of cooking for me is the creativity in the moment!
But sometimes, it’d be nice to have at least a template with which to create some good meals.
Right now, our garden is at the point where it’s slowly becoming our grocery store. Herbs are starting to grow (hello sage and rosemary and mint). Early Spring vegetables, like asparagus, are mostly done for the season. Our rhubarb plant is enormous and very happy.
Side story: both the asparagus and rhubarb plants in our garden came from my partner’s grandma’s gardens, maternal and paternal. They are legacy plants. It feels so special every time we harvest them – it is a gift and a memory all in one.
On today’s menu: Rhubarb Crisp.
What better way to celebrate rhubarb than baking it until it bubbles and melts in your mouth, with a crunchy caramelized crisp on the top?
Yes. Please.
Now, bear with me as I write a recipe how I would write one: not with an ingredient list, but a “well you could probably grab a handful of that over there” story.
It starts with rhubarb, with the leaves and big stringy bits of the stem removed, cut into dice-sized chunks. I was baking in a 9″ pie pan, so I ended up with around 2 pounds of rhubarb. Probably?
I tossed a handful of very ripe, chopped strawberries into the bowl to add some sweetness. Because this crisp was being made for a cookout, and most folks like things sweeter than E and I, I sprinkled a little extra sugar in there.
We had discovered in an earlier bake that orange zest goes great in a rhubarb crisp, but we had no oranges in the house that day. Out to the garden I went to find a good alternative.
The solution: fresh lemon balm.
Honestly, I don’t think I’ll ever make rhubarb crisp without lemon balm now. If you don’t know what lemon balm is, it’s usually an herb used in tea to help you fall asleep or chill you out. It’s a mint and grows like one (aka it spreads all over the place). As for flavor, imagine mint and lemon with a splash of basil. It’s a very unique, potent pop of freshness.
I grabbed a small little handful to chop up and add into the crisp. Just a small bit, because I didn’t know if it would work, and I didn’t want it to overpower the bake.
Next, a dash of lemon juice and a bit of corn starch to help thicken it. Tossed all together and dumped into the pie pan.
Now, the topping!
The best bit.
This is going to be the hardest to describe, as I kept adding things in when I felt like it. Zero exact measurements. So…
The topping was probably a 2-to-1 ratio between rolled oats and almond flour. With a sprinkling of sugar, a chunk of brown sugar, the rest of our bottle of maple syrup (maybe… 2 tablespoons? who knows), a scoop of coconut oil, cinnamon, and a healthy pinch of ground spicebush (foraged from the land last Fall!). I smushed it all together by hand and spread it on the top of the rhubarb.
It got thrown into the oven at 350 degrees until it bubbled happily away and the crisp on top was crispy.
And yes, I did take an entire bite out of the pie pan after it came out of the oven because I wanted to try it. And yes, E got another clean spoon out to spread the crisp back out so it didn’t look like we were taking a half-eaten dish to the cookout.
Next time, I’m definitely going to add a bit more lemon balm because wow that was a smart move. It was SO GOOD.
Hopefully, you enjoyed How I Write A Recipe, Edition One. And if you didn’t, well, maybe I’ll get better at this as time goes on. But I probably won’t.
List of ingredients
The rhubarb bit
- rhubarb
- strawberries
- lemon juice
- lemon balm, fresh not dried
- corn starch
- sugar
The toppings bit
- rolled oats
- almond flour
- coconut oil
- maple syrup
- cinnamon
- ground dried spicebush (use allspice as an alternative)
- sugar
- brown sugar
P.S. Upon describing how I wrote this ‘recipe’ to E, she said, “So, you wrote a Technical Challenge for the Great British Bake Off?”
Yes.
Yes I did.
Welcome to the Gingham Altar.
Ready, set, bake!
Now At A Farm 