Can we all agree to stop apologizing for rhubarb? No one apologizes for recipes that call for things like squid, marshmallow-flavored vodka, and green peppers. In fact, some times those things are actually celebrated rather than reviled. So I don’t know why rhubarb, the humble plant that springs to life after a long winter, is the recipient of occasional derision. But it’s time to stop.
I was wandering through a neglected garden in the countryside a few weeks ago, where not much was growing in the spring drizzle, except a few dewy tulips poking through. But right in the thick of things was a resplendent rhubarb plant, which saved the day. In the grand tradition of French “gleaning”, I yanked the stalks out of the ground, brought them home, and made a compote out of them. Free food? What’s not to like about that?