Rhubarb always makes me think of when I was growing up back in Scotland. My dad grew rhubarb in the yard and when it was ready, we would pull off the stalks and dip them in sugar. Maybe theres a connection with the rhubarb and dental industries, dare I say cavities.
Rhubarb wasn’t such a scarce ingredient back home as it seems to be here in the U.S. and another thing I remember is that rhubarb was always just rhubarb. It wasn’t mixed with much else and always stood on it’s own. There was no strawberry rhubarb or mixed berry and rhubarb so when I woke up this morning and decided I needed to make pie today, it was just going to be straight up rhubarb.
Well the pie tasted good, not too tart or sweet and smelled like it should but my fruit went south, it sagged. I followed the recipe from my Pie and Pastry Bible to the letter but to no avail. I’m not too disappointed as it will still be eaten, but I’m left wondering if the rhubarb missed his old friend the strawberry, just to help him stand up and be the proud pie he wanted to be.
Next time I’ll try cutting bigger chunks and possibly teaming up with another fruit.