Today I ate a bowl of stewed rhubarb. It was delicious. Yesterday, Ken pulled the rhubarb from our one plant beside the well. He cut up the stalks and put the cut rhubarb in a big pot. I added a small amount of water and put the pot to boil. After an hour or so I added sugar to taste, then simmered the pot for a few minutes. Finally I set it beside the stove to cool. Eventually I transferred the stewed rhubarb to a container, labelled it, and put it in the fridge. This morning for breakfast I ate a big bowl.
My Mother knew I liked rhubarb so she almost always kept a bowl in the fridge. One Saturday evening I had returned home late. Everyone was asleep so I was carrying my shoes in my hand. I also was carrying a book and a bowl of rhubarb, to eat as a late night snack. As I clicked on my light switch, the bowl of rhubarb fell onto the chair, which was unfortunately covered with clothes. I had a mess on my hands. My solution was to leave the rhubarb where it was and go to sleep, which I did. I have no recollection of what I did the next morning but I can still recall that spilled rhubarb.
My favorite dessert is a strawberry rhubarb pie, with ice cream. Every northern home had a rhubarb patch. We can not grow it in either Texas or Mississippi. But from time to time, I can find it in the grocery store. It was a treat to find that our own rhubarb patch was ready to be harvested. Eating a bowl this morning returned me to my youth. More nostalgia.
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