Strawberry Rhubarb Galette

Lately, I've been thinking about loss and home. Not as separate thematic entities, but rather the Venn diagram overlap of the two. These thoughts have been prompted by my move to a new state and region that has also experienced great loss-- economic, cultural, environmental and where connection to home and place is so prominent and visceral. Maybe it's because I grew up in the Midwest, or have lived so many other places, but aside from a dew special places from my childhood, that deep tie to place and state and region is mostly foreign to me. On a recent trip home for my grandma Georgette's 85th birthday, though, I was confronted by my own personal feelings on "home loss" and nostalgia, for a place I can't really return to. 

My parents and my mother's siblings and their spouses, my brother and his girlfriend, and other extended family, all gathered at my grandma's home, a mostly-retiree condo community that she moved to after my grandfather died. Their house which she moved from sat on 20 acres of woods and pasture in North Liberty, deep in Indiana farm country. My grandparents were a part of that community, but also were a little different, evidenced by their unusual home built on land between cornfields on a country road. My grandfather, a painter, lithographer, and the former art director for Studebaker, designed and built their angular, energy-efficient mid-century modern dwelling, which was tiered with balconies, decks, and the outdoor back "secret stairs" that I liked to take upon my arrival to "surprise" my grandmother who was undoubtedly waiting to greet me at the kitchen window. Their porches and yard were peppered with abstract sculptures, like the sundial "dinosaur" that stood in the center of my grandmother's flower bed, and my grandfather studio, housing his lithograph press, stood just on the other side of the driveway en route to the fishing pond. 

In Southern culture, literature in particular, there's a lot of talk about "the home place." That concept doesn't appear in the Midwest so much, maybe because so many Midwesterners were migrants with a home place elsewhere-- the south, east, or another country altogether. But that weird house on Riley Road was my home place, where extended family would gather for holidays and big Sunday meals every week of my childhood, and where my brother and I were free to roam, a thrill for us inner-city kids.

It's somewhat tangential but relevant, I think, to share that my family had actually been displaced from our original home place-- land I never knew when it was ours, but was the home of my great-grandparents, grandparents, mother and her siblings. That previous property, where my grandfather had also build a house of his own design, was taken away by the state via eminent domain for the creation of a state park that the government had hoped would bring in crucial tourist dollars. It never really did, and I have to wonder if that has something to do with the displacement of the many families who lived there and stayed in the community-- families who were also still obligated  to pay the park entrance fee to walk to land that still bears no sign that it was once theirs. Maybe I've absorbed some bitterness about it. Though that doesn't subtract from the connection I felt and still feel to the familial home I knew, it adds another inherited layer to my own sense of loss, and I imagine that feeling is even sharper for my mom and her siblings.

One of the things I remember clearly from the home place I knew were the rhubarb plants that lined my grandma's raised bed. They were the biggest rhubarb plants I've ever seen, their toxic leaves almost Jurassic, served as ample shade for the two grey cats, Blue and Pinkie, and were last-minute hiding places for our hide 'n' go seek games at dusk. The edible stalks were bright red and thick-- making the pallid and limp green and pink stalks I sometimes get at the grocery store seem like an entirely different species. 

The day before my grandma's birthday party, my mom, aunts, uncle, and I had lunch at Georgette's (or as my dad and uncles call her, "Big Gette") house. We made cold cut sandwiches, and after we were done, my grandma apologetically brought a store-bought rhubarb crisp to the table, saying it was store bought because she couldn't find any rhubarb at the store, adding that she's never found any as good as the rhubarb she used to grow on Riley Rd. When she served it, my mom and aunt refused a slice, but my uncle, now a Floridian who doesn't come across much rhubarb anymore obliged, and as a ever-rhubarb fan with an ample sweet tooth, I did too. 

I don't blame or judge my grandma for buying a store-bought rhubarb crisp. Rather, I applaud her for, after long last, allowing someone else to do some work for her- at 85, a mother of 5, and a grandmother of 5,  and the family matriarch, she definitely deserves it. The crisp wasn't bad, but it didn't taste anything like rhubarb, the cloying taste of sugar and over-use of preservatives and thickener completely masking any of that biting tartness we were after. But as we sat there chewing, here in a house that despite its cookie-cutie exterior exudes the magic of my grandmother, I realized that what I was tasting was the taste of home and loss, and it was much too sweet. 

Strawberry Rhubarb Galette
Adapted from Food & Wine

Ingredients
Nothing in the House pie crust
2 cups (1 pint) strawberries, sliced thick
1 pound rhubarb stalks, cut into pieces
1/2 - 3/4 cup sugar, depending on your tartness preference
2 Tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon of your favorite bitters (I used black cardamom bitters; or substitute vanilla extract)
4 Tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pieces
2 Tablespoons whole milk
Turbinado sugar

Directions
1. Prepare Nothing in the House pie crust as per the directions here. Chill dough at least 1 hour before rolling out into a 13-14 inch circle on a sheet of parchment paper or a Silpat. Put the rolled crust and parchment/Silpat on a cookie sheet and return it to the fridge while you prepare the filling. 

2. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. In a large bowl, mix together sliced strawberries, rhubarb pieces, sugar, flour, lemon juice and bitters (or vanilla extract). 

3. Remove rolled crust from fridge and spread the fruit filling over the pastry, leaving a 2-inch edge. Fold the edge over the filling, pleating at the corners. Dot the filling with butter pieces. Brush crust with milk and sprinkle with Turbinado sugar. 

4. Place the galette in the oven and bake on the middle rack for 1 hour or until fruit is bubbling and the pastry is golden brown. Let cool before slicing into wedges and serving with vanilla ice cream. 

Related recipes:
4 & 20 Blackbirds' Rhubarb Pie
Rhubarb Meringue Tart with Pecan Shortbread Crust
Rhubarb Tart
Simple Rhubarb Tart
Strawberry Rhubarb Pie
Strawberry Rhubarb and Wine-Soaked Fig Rustic Tart

Simple Rhubarb Tart

Though my last rhubarb creation disguised essentially disguised it altogether, rhubarb stalks are real purty. Springy pastel pinks and greens, with those lipstick red outer layers that turn into ribbons when you strip them off. I did, however, tell most of my rhubarb tales in that last post, and in fact, this simple rhubarb tart was made with leftovers from that unrecognizably-rhubarb meringue.

I saw this recipe on Desserts for Breakfast, whose treats I've been lovin' lately, and thought it would be a good use of those those rectangular tart pans I'd been neglecting (aside from these ginger-lemon and bourbon-orange tarts and a goat cheese cranberry tart at Kickasserole). I sliced the rhubarb very thin--in quarters at least, to show off the gradations of those spring colors. So beautiful, I couldn't stop taking pictures of it.

Simple Rhubarb Tart
Adapted from Desserts for Breakfast
Makes 2 rectangular tarts (mine are 13.75 X 4.25 inches)

Ingredients
For crust (you could also use the Nothing-in-the-House pie crust recipe, halved):
1 c. pecans, roasted  
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 3/4 c. all-purpose flour  
2 tsp. baking powder  
9 Tblsp. butter  
1 egg  
1 egg yolk  
1 tsp. vanilla extract (I used vanilla-bourbon)  
zest of one small orange (I used a clementine)

For filling:
4 Tblsp. flour
2 Tblsp. brown sugar
2 vanilla beans (I didn't have any on hand, so I went without)
3 rhubarb stalks
2 Tblsp. Turbinado sugar

For orange-honey whipped cream:
1/2 c. crème fraiche
1 Tblsp. heavy whipping cream
zest of 1 small orange
1 Tblsp. honey (can adjust to taste)

Directions
1. Combine roasted pecans, flour, sugar, and baking powder in a food processor and pulse until pecans are finely ground. Add cold butter chunks to the pecan mixture and process until mix is the size of small peas. Add egg, egg yolk, vanilla extract and orange zest and pulse just until dough begins to form. Remove pastry dough from the food processor and wrap tightly in plastic wrap. Chill for at least one hour and up to 1 day.

2. After at least one hour, remove dough from fridge and preheat oven to 425. Roll out the dough (this can be a little difficult, as it will be slightly crumbly), but you can also just press it into the bottom and sides of each floured and greased rectangular tart pan. The bottom crust should be slightly thicker than the sides. Place both crusts in the freezer for about 10 minutes.

3. Meanwhile, prepare your filling. Combine flour and brown sugar in a bowl. Split the vanilla bean lengthwise (if using) and scrape seeds into the flour mixture. Combine. Divide mixture in half and sprinkle and spread evenly over each crust. Split each rhubarb stalk lengthwise into quarters. Trim each slice to just slightly smaller than the width of the tart (I used the bottom of the tart pan as a guide). Line rhubarb slices on the flour mixture and sprinkle with Turbinado sugar.

4. Bake at 425 degrees F for 10 minutes. Then reduce heat to 350 degrees F and bake for 10-12 minutes more, until crust is dark brown and rhubarb is cooked through and soft. Remove from oven and let cool.

5. In a medium mixing bowl, mix crème fraiche, whipping cream, orange zest and honey, beating until well combined and medium peaks form. Serve rhubarb tart with a generous dollop of whipped cream atop! 

The result was a delicate, easy and delicious tart that really lets the vegetable (or is it fruit?) do the talkin'--and that's pretty much my favorite kind of dessert. Put a dollop of orange-honey whipped cream on top, and you've got a winner.

I have a few stalks of rhubarb left in the fridge, so I may just whip up another one of these in the next few days. My dad is coming to town for my birthday tomorrow, and though I told him there would be cake, he's bemoaning the fact that there will be no pie. Since he's making the trip to D.C. all the way from Indiana to celebrate and shower me with gifts (a new camera!!), I just might have to appease him.

The next day, I'm headed up to my friend's farm in the Hudson Valley. A few years ago, she and I planted some rhubarb bushes, which just might be fruiting now. Perhaps she'll send me back with some to restock my rhubarb stores for more creations--I've still got some jam to make.

Rhubarb Meringue Tart with a Pecan Shortbread Crust

 Rhubarb season in Indiana was like zucchini season in Vermont. People would practically leave boxes of the stuff on your porch begging you to take some off of their hands. Growing up, we would harvest rhubarb from two big patches in my grandmother's garden, which would then be made into pies by her and my mother. Here in the district, rhubarb is not quite as abundant, and I've been on a mad hunt for it at farmers' markets, grocery stores and local co-ops to no avail. As a last resort, I called up the nearby Giant store, and finally found some in stock--it wasn't as happy or fresh as the stalks from my grandma's garden, but it filled a need.



My rhubarb hunt was conducted with the intention of jam or tarts or pie (or all three), but I wanted something a little different from the classic rhubarb pie (though I did make a lil' somethin' with the leftovers, which I will share soon). I thought that the sour rhubarb flavor would work well as with a curd with meringue atop (which our house has been overflowing with lately, with our Tarts by Tarts lemon-ginger tartlets), and wanted to try a variation of the shortbread-and-nut crust I used for the grapefruit crostata. Inspired by a few rhubarb-and-pecan paired recipes like this one, a rhubarb meringue tart with a pecan shortbread crust was born.

Rhubarb Meringue Tart with Pecan Shortbread Crust
Filling adapted from Naturally Ella

Ingredients
For crust:
1 c. pecans, roasted
1 3/4 c. all-purpose flour
1/3 c. sugar
2 tsp. baking powder
9 Tblsp. butter
1 egg
1 egg yolk
1 tsp. vanilla extract (I used vanilla-bourbon)
zest of one small orange (I used a clementine)

For filling:
3 c. fresh rhubarb, diced
1/4 c. + about 1/2 c. water
1 1/4 c. sugar
1/4 c. cornstarch
1/4 tsp. salt
5 egg yolks (save whites for meringue)
3 Tblsp. butter, cut into chunks

For meringue:
5 egg whites
1 tsp. cream of tartar
1/4 c. sugar

Directions
For crust:
1. Combine roasted pecans, flour, sugar, and baking powder in a food processor and pulse until pecans are finely ground. Add cold butter chunks to the pecan mixture and process until mix is the size of small peas. Add egg, egg yolk, vanilla extract and orange zest and pulse just until dough begins to form. Remove pastry dough from the food processor and wrap tightly in plastic wrap. Chill for at least one hour and up to 1 day.

2. After at least one hour, preheat oven to 350 degrees F and lightly grease and flour the bottom and sides of a 9-inch tart pan. Remove the dough from the fridge. I rolled out the dough first(which was a little difficult, as it was crumbly), but you can also just press it into the bottom and sides of the tart pan. The bottom crust should be slightly thicker than the sides. Place crust in the freezer for about 10 minutes, then line with parchment paper and pie weights. Bake for about 20 minutes or until crust is dark brown. Remove pie weights and bake for 5 more minutes. Take from oven and let cool.

For filling:
1. Combine diced rhubarb and 1/4 c. water in a saucepan and bring to a boil over medium heat. Let cook until rhubarb is soft and begins to break down. With an immersion blender (or a stand blender), purée until smooth and set aside to cool slightly. Once cooled, add enough water to bring purée to 1 1/2 c. (this should be about 1/2 c. of water). 

2. Add sugar, salt, and cornstarch to the purée mixture and cook over medium heat until it begins to thicken. Add in egg yolks, whisking after each addition. Continue to cook until mixture coats the back of a spoon, or reads 185 degrees F on a candy thermometer. Remove from heat and stir in the butter. Let cool to room temperature. Once cooled, pour filling into pie crust, cover with plastic wrap and place in the fridge for about 2 hours.

 For meringue:
1. Once filling has chilled for 2 hours, preheat oven to 375 degrees F. In a medium mixing bowl, mix egg whites and cream of tartar on high until egg whites begin to form medium peaks. Continue to beat eggs, gradually adding in sugar. Continue to beat eggs until they are glossy and can form stiff peaks. Spread over rhubarb filling, making sure the meringue seals the edge of the pie. Use the back of a spoon to curl meringue decoratively. Bake for 12-15 minutes or until egg whites begin to brown. Serve chilled or at room temperature.

The first time I made this, I was surprised by how the egg yolks transformed the subtle pink color of the rhubarb purée into an unrecognizable mustard yellow. I left it as such, but the second time around, I used 2 drops of natural red food coloring to tint the curd back to it's original pink hue. The yellow was not an unappetizing color, it just didn't really read as rhubarb.

This curd is something real special. I was hoping I'd have some leftover to fill doughnuts or spoon over a slice of pound cake, but my roommate and I armed ourselves with spoons and quickly polished off what little was left in the saucepans--rhubarb curd-stuffed doughnuts will have to wait until another time. If you don't want to go the meringue route, you can just sprinkle the tart with powdered sugar, perhaps in lines or a stenciled pattern. It would still be great.

We enjoyed this during a post-square dance rainy Sunday with a decadent sweet-savory pie that featured a cheddar-bacon crumble top (more on that soon!), sausage with red-eye gravy, Spudnuts (doughnuts made from potato flour), and beer-mosas. We also played cards and attempted to launch cascarones with a slingshot I made from salad tongs, rubber bands and masking tape. It didn't work, but it was a good brunch.



Related recipes:
Cheap Tart Bakery's Rhubarb Tart
Four & Twenty Blackbirds' Rhubarb Pie
Grapefruit & Pepper Meringue Tartlets
Simple Rhubarb Tart

Rhubarb Tart at Rachel's Bread

My grandma Georgette at Rachel's

It is a Hilliard family tradition to frequent Rachel's Bread in Goshen, Indiana on Saturday mornings. Rachel's is the French/Belgian-inspired bakery of our friend Rachel Shenk. She used to sell bread out of her home kitchen, but has since established a full-on boulangerie adjacent to the Goshen Farmers' Market, and has acquired a loyal following.

My parents enjoy their frittatas

I came home this weekend to surprise my grandma on her 80th birthday, so on Saturday we headed down to Goshen for some of Rachel's frittatas, croissants, baguettes, and yes, tarts.

Rachel's rhubarb mini tart!

I got this delicious rhubarb mini tart-- diced rhubarb with sugar on a thick pâte sucrée. The thick, doughy and sugared crust--a perfect compliment to the tart rhubarb-- persuaded me to get to work on my own pâte sucrée; I never thought it was necessary before. I have some recipes to try, but if you have a good one, do let me know. I'll have to wait until my next visit home to compare it to Rachel's...