The Goods Are Odd

This summer took me from this tiny kitchen to this one:

Actually, what I love is that it isn’t a tiny kitchen but a tiny house-kitchen. It’s nothing but kitchen. Which is my favorite place to be. (And…that big sloping ceiling is really just part of the giant roof of the big ole swallow filled barn in which this apartment is nestled and I walk up a gang plank to get to my front door).

It’s a temporary spot for now, and so I only came equipped with the bare essentials. It’s funny what I thought I would need and what I wouldn’t. Muffin tins came, pie pan went to storage- along with most everything else. But we did bring all three cast irons pans and when I came home to a table full of rhubarb from the Barn-Owner’s garden I figured I could use one to make a rhubarb pie. The internet confirmed that pie could be made in a cast-iron. This was the first mistake in a long list of poor choices that led to the worse pie I have ever made. The acidic rhubarb picked up the iron in the pan and made the whole thing turn brown and tinny tasting. Though I’ve gotten away with using sprouted spelt flour before with good results. But this batch was too coarse and even mixed with white flour turned tough (I also mixed it by hand because I am without my pastry cutter and I also was using the only large bowl I brought to soak beans so I made it rustic style right on the counter, which I think all made me handle the butter bits too much). I also used rapadura sugar which still has the molasses in it and with the rhubarb and the ginger I added (probably too much) it was really sharp. It boiled out of it’s crust, left burnt sticky blobs on the pans I had below (always a good thing to have under a pie) Okay, so it was a horrible pie and most of it went to the chickens.

But there is a huge crop of rhubarb outside my door that I think my landlord would like help eating, and I would love to be helpful. I was determined to make a really excellent pie. Somehow none of the cook books I brought gave me a good rhubarb pie recipe (except Nourishing Traditions, but following that recipe leads down the path I had already abandoned, sometimes her recipes just plain don’t work) so I did my least favorite thing and searched the internet for something that looked good. I had to post the results and the link because what I found turned out so beautifully and I found it I think eight pages into my Google search, and I want it to be first! Rhubarb custard!

I started with a trip to the thrift store in town and found a glass pie pan, to get my pie making back on the right foot. Then I made the dough, in a bowl and with a fork, with white flour and whole wheat pastry flour (I can’t resist, I like the bit of color and the flavor).

For the filling I mixed into four cups of chopped rhubarb a whole cup of organic cane sugar that was as white as I can stand, I think it’s called ‘evaporated’. Three tablespoons of arrowroot powder and a pinch of salt. Then the good stuff- two beaten eggs. For eight pages of Google I never saw eggs, and it’s wonderful! It basically turned into a lemon curd with rhubarb stuffed in it. And it stayed so beautifully pink. And it set, you could take out a piece with the side of a butter knife. The link above says it’s an old, 19th century recipe, and a commenter said it’s also the same as a Mennonite recipe. My process differed with the use of arrowroot and that pinch of salt. It also calls to top with dots of butter, which, incredibly I forgot to do. So it must be good either way.

The recipe is also clear in using a double crust. I was tempted to take the time to do a lattice (I never do) because it seems traditional with rhubarb, but I had this sense that maybe the eggs cook up better if sealed. I cut only the tiniest slits in the top, just to be safe.

I think I was so happy to have found this approach to rhubarb, because I’ve never really liked it. It’s never been my favorite pie because it never seems balanced. Even with a bunch of sugar it’s sharp flavor is still back there. But the eggs make it creamy, giving the tart some fat to go with, balancing it and even bringing it out in a way that’s really enjoyable instead of just masking.

I may still be stuck with the mini-sized oven, but at least I know I can still get a good pie out of it.

(That liquid set the next day, sometimes it’s better to let a pie rest longer, but who can do that?)