Virtually unknown in Florida, this wonderful sour, red and purple stalk has a lot to offer.
Rhubarb! It’s incredible, even when eaten raw. As a child, I would eat it chopped up and sprinkled with a little brown sugar. It was delicious.
My AI overview says I can “buy rhubarb at grocery stores, farmers markets, garden centers, or online. Rhubarb is available in the spring and early summer and is often used in desserts.”
What a load of baloney!
I can’t find rhubarb anywhere locally. I did see it once in Publix—and only once: an eon ago. A bunch of six scrawny-looking stalks that cost $8. But I did so enjoy what little there was. And if I look online, it’s only available via shipping at ridiculous prices.
Since being in the US, I’ve easily been able to find rhubarb in Michigan, Wisconsin, California, Oregon, Iowa, Vermont, Maine, Massachusetts and Whole Foods in Manhattan. But in Florida? Nah! Zero! Zilch! Nada! Is it because the people who live in Florida don’t know what it is, how to use it or have forgotten just how delicious their mom’s rhubarb pie used to be?
I’m not just talking about fresh rhubarb, either. I can’t find canned or frozen rhubarb. Why not?
Looking at the fruit and veggie display in my grocery store, there are oranges all the way from South Africa, dragon fruit from Thailand and Vietnam, bananas from Guatemala, Costa Rica, Ecuador, Honduras, Colombia and Mexico, kiwis (fruit, not the birds) from New Zealand, Chile, Italy, and Greece and California.
I’ve seen Buddha’s hands with its lemon-yellow fingers, some of which are downright creepy, Baobab fruit, longan and rambutan. All are imported to the United States from Asia and countries like Malaysia, Vietnam, and Thailand.
But where the heck is my rhubarb? It grows profusely less than 1,000 miles away.
Why can’t rhubarb be transported from up there to here? I mean, it’s like a weed. It grows rampantly in the northern climes of the US. It’s not a delicacy. It doesn’t need special transportation requirements. It’s a robust plant! One can find it on roadways and growing wild all over up north of here. It can be grown in Florida, but not successfully.
Rhubarb is actually a vegetable, even though the USDA classifies it as a fruit, probably because we mostly use it in sweet dishes. It doesn’t have seeds and doesn’t come from the flowering part of the plant. Instead, we consume the plant’s edible stem, making it a vegetable.
Rhubarb stalks look like celery, but instead of being bright green, rhubarb comes in shades of red, pink, white, and muted green. A seasonal plant, rhubarb aligns closely with strawberries in many regions, which is why rhubarb will often be displayed in markets at the same time and paired with strawberries in dishes.
Raw rhubarb tastes super tart, like sour apples or a lemon, and because of this, it’s almost always cooked down with sugar or paired with another sweet fruit like strawberries. When it’s cooked down with a little sugar, it has a delicious, tart taste and takes on a silky texture perfect for desserts. It’s loved for the gorgeous color it gives dishes.
Rhubarb is rich in antioxidants, particularly anthocyanins (which give it its rich, red, purply color) and proanthocyanidins. All of these have significant anti-bacterial, anti-inflammatory, and anti-cancer properties, which help protect us from many health-related issues such as heart disease, cancer, and diabetes. Its brightly colored stalks are high in vitamin K, a nutrient that plays an important role in bone health and blood clotting, and also a great source of fiber and potassium. Don’t eat the leaves, though. The leaves have high concentrations of oxalic acid, which would make you feel unwell if eaten in huge volumes.
As early as the 19th century, English cookbooks have been baking rhubarb into desserts like lattice pies, tarts and custards. Persian recipes use it in a slow-cooked, herb-packed lamb stew, while the Polish love it roasted with potatoes and mushrooms in a gratin. Norwegians like to make soup from it, and I’ve heard that it’s rather delicious in a stir-fry.
You can pickle it, sauce it and even shave it!
Pickled rhubarb is sweet, tart, and crunchy, with a bit of spice depending on the spices used. I use cider vinegar, bay leaves, pink peppercorns, cloves, sugar and two-star Anais.
Rhubarb with fresh ginger, mustard seeds, and brown sugar adds depth and sweetness to make a wonderful relish. Serve with pork, chicken, duck or an oily fish such as salmon or halibut. The relish will keep, covered and refrigerated, for up to two weeks.
Shave rhubarb stalks to combine with radishes for a salad to accompany fish fillets or with any grilled or pan-seared meats. Are you salivating yet?
My favorite way to enjoy rhubarb is in a Bellini. It’s a refreshing Prosecco or sparkling wine cocktail made with fresh rhubarb puree. It’s lower in alcohol and sugar than other cocktails, which makes it a great choice for a refreshing spring-summer drink.
Rhubarb Bellini
– Two cups rhubarb, chopped — about two large stalks
– Half cup (120 g) cane sugar
– Quarter cup (60 ml) water
– Grated zest and juice from one lemon
– One bottle of chilled Prosecco or sparkling wine
Combine the rhubarb, sugar, water, lemon zest and juice in a small saucepan and bring to a simmer. Lower the heat and cook until the rhubarb softens about 15 minutes. Puree the rhubarb until smooth and then refrigerate until cold.
Spoon 1-2 tablespoons of the puree into the glass flutes. Pop open the bottle of ice-cold Prosecco or sparkling wine and pour into flutes, blend with a long spoon or a chopstick and top off with more Prosecco.
I guess Floridians just don’t like rhubarb. Pity. You don’t know what you’re missing.
Sue Quigley writes regularly for The Hernando Sun. She can be reached at [email protected] or at 727.247.6308.