As a kid growing up in Iowa, I hated rhubarb. It was everywhere in the gardens and sometimes growing wild. I thought it was weird stuff since it was sour and tasted awful. Not for me!
I can’t remember where or when I first tasted a piece of strawberry rhubarb pie, but I do know it was love at first bite. I’ve always been a pie guy looking forward to my next piece of cherry, apple, or blueberry pie. No cake for me. I don’t get the attraction; cakes are not in the same league as pies, period.
Once I moved to the South it was “goodbye, rhubarb pie” since it is not grown here like it is up north. Rhubarb is a cold weather plant and is most prominent in New England, the Midwest, Great Plains, and Canada. Then I met Kari Morris who owned and ran Turner’s Corner Cafe on the Chestatee River just down the road from Potlatch. Kari, who grew up in Michigan and Wisconsin, found a source for rhubarb and soon strawberry rhubarb pies were a staple on her dessert menu. Since I ate at the Corner frequently, I soon began taking home whole pies until she noticed that she lost money not selling it by the slice.
Since then, I have enjoyed strawberry rhubarb pie in the Finger Lakes region in upstate New York and in Maine. Up there it is on most of the menus and in the bakeries, rather like pecan pie in the south. This past summer I struck it rich when my son’s family, “Team Colorado,” visited Potlatch for two months. Makenna, my grand-daughter and her mother Leah made me a wonderful pie as a surprise. Whenever I’ve encountered the pie, I’m always reminded how much I miss it. That’s why, in “My Ten New Year’s Resolutions” for 2021 posted in these pages, I pledged to learn to make my own pies. And now I’ve done it, sort of.
My hand was forced when Betty gave me rhubarb and strawberries for Valentine’s Day. I don’t know where she found the rhubarb, but I knew I had to give it a try. I used a recipe from the New York Times and went to work. At this point, I must add that I had never so much as looked at dough or baked anything other than a chicken.
I chopped up a mess of rhubarb and halved a mess of strawberries, added butter, flour, lots and lots of sugar, an egg, and beat it all up together in a big pan. I unfolded and rolled out store-bought pie crust, put it in a pie plate, dumped all the stuff in, and then cut a lattice crust for the top which was probably the most difficult thing about it. That’s it, except for baking at 450 degrees for about 40 minutes.
My verdict: it came out better than expected and was good, except that it was more than a little “soupy.” Getting it out of the pie plate in traditional pie slices was a bit dicey, involving spoons and multiple scoops. There must be a secret, huh?
I would ask Kari, but I am betting adding some corn starch would fix the problem. Sorry we missed it. Sounds yummy with some ice cream.
Thanks George, a friend in Iowa already suggested the same thing. I will check with Kari for the “definitive” solution. The pie was good even as a “soup!”
Given the fact that we in the South have warmly embraced you, I should think it is time for you to probe B’s mind and find the secrets for making our regional dish, the indescribably delicious Banana Pudding! My Yankee wife also enjoys rhubarb-strawberry pie, but I must tell you that to me that sounds like putting collards in a pie shell, covering them with some sort of gelatinous glob, covering with a decorative crust, and consigning the mixture to high temperatures in an oven. Banana pudding (using Eagle Brand milk, Nabisco vanilla wafers, and other ingredients) could revive the dead, arouse man’s most passionate nature, eliminate crooked politicians, and effectively treat COVID-19 and its many variants! Man up and do the deed!
JUST FOR YOU:
Here is a recipe for banana pudding, but before I give it to you, let me take the time to warn you against pseudo-cooks who add crushed pineapple to their banana pudding. To my way of thinking, the addition of such garbage to banana pudding is an abomination to God and will be punishable in the afterlife by eons and eons of “no banana pudding!” The reality is that if the Creator had intended to mix pineapple with bananas, he would have created the pinana or the banapple. He didn’t! Nor did he set up any mechanism for such extreme crossbreeding to take place. While I am no great advocate of the current right-wing doctrine of “creationism,” I truly think that these kooks are missing the boat with their arguments. What better example of a divine plan than the fact that pineapples and bananas don’t mix! Those who attempt to circumvent the Great Plan are trifling with things they don’t understand and which could get completely out of hand! It is best for the future of mankind that such weird experiments—pay attention to the Island of Dr. Moreau—remain forbidden territory, much like human cloning is today.
“Hear these words and be wary!”
BANANA PUDDING
• 1 cup Sugar
• 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 2 cups milk (whole or 2%)
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 tablespoon butter (not margarine)
• 4 egg yolks (large eggs or better)
• box of Vanilla wafers
• 4-5 ripe bananas
MERINGUE
• 4 egg whites, at room temperature
• 5 tablespoons sugar
• 1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
Preheat oven to 375°F.
Peel bananas and cut into slices approximately ½ inch thick. Line pyrex dish, approximately 10 inches long, with vanilla wafers and the place a layer of cut bananas on top. Alternate layers until dish is full.
In a saucepan, beat egg yolks with fork. Place pan over medium heat and slowly add flour mixture, milk and vanilla. Continue stirring. Bring to a gentle boil, but be careful to avoid scorching mixture. Continue cooking until mixture thickens to a pudding-like texture.
Pour cooked mixture over layers of wafers and bananas being careful to allow pudding to seep into all nooks and crannies.
Place final layer of cut bananas on top and create a “fence” around the edge of the dish with vanilla wafers.
Prepare meringue by beating egg whites at high speed until the mixture forms small peaks when spoon is inserted and removed. Gradually add the cream of tartar and sugar while continuing to beat at high speed. Slowly meld vanilla into mixture.
Spread meringue over pudding and place in oven at 375 degrees. Cook until meringue is browned on peaks. Do not over cook.
Love seeing your rhubarb pie – it is beautiful! It conjures wonderful memories of summers at my grandfather’s house in Pennsylvania where we always had home-made rhubarb from the garden, sometimes made into a pie but usually served in a pudding dish with no crust. We all loved it so my mother must have sweetened it with something!
Hi Barbara, I missed out on the rhubarb for the most part in Iowa cause I wouldn’t eat it. Maybe they didn’t sweeten it enough, but then didn’t discover lots of good stuff until later in life!