This week I got in touch
with my inner earth mother by making fresh organic rhubarb jam.
When I say
fresh, I mean a friend picked the rhubarb for me from a dewy backyard garden in the
morning and we spread the bounty as jam on our homemade wheat bread that very
night. I love having friends who
aren’t afraid to face off against cold spring soil and a few worms in the name
of good food.
And me? Well I faced off
against 2 ½ pounds of rhubarb stalks, a vicious posse of sharp kitchen tools,
and one bizarre cookie recipe.
The jam was part of a recipe
for Hungarian Shortbread, which was the assignment this week from the Tuesdays with Dorie group. I’ve always been a big fan of rhubarb, and feel it is an
underrated fruit/vegetable. (There’s a weird story about it's classification here.) In this
case, the addition of just a little sugar, heat and a vanilla bean or two makes
the jam worthy of it’s own display at a chic little farm stand in rural
Connecticut. It really deserves a cloth cover, a hand written label and a
pretty little ribbon on top, finished off with a hefty price tag of course. But
who’s got time for package design when you’re busy stuffing your face with this
tangy delight? (I really did plan to gift it to some friends. Oops. All gone.)
The Pie Guy begged to
help me make the jam, which he subsequently rejected completely. (No matter, there
wasn’t much left anyway after mom got through “tasting” it…) With the Pie Guy,
it’s all about the process, so I supervised his effort to chop the rhubarb into chunks using our 8-inch chef’s knife. Despite his most earnest attempts, the Pie Guy did not
lose any fingertips during The Cutting Of The Rhubarb. Score one for the Cool Mom.
(“Don’t tell Dad we used the big knife, ok?”)
Here's the crazy part of the recipe: For the cookies, the recipe
instructed me to freeze the dough into two large balls, and then use a box
grater to shred the dough into the pan. (Enter another evil kitchen tool.) Although we lavish regular attention upon
our box grater, it does tend to get a little nippy with me, and my knuckles
have the scars to prove it. I’m happy to report, however, that although I may
be losing the overall war, I won the battle with the grater for today. Score
standings: Cool Mom: two. Evil kitchen tools: zero.
When I was through grating
the dough, the pan looked like it was ready for Passover. You be the judge: is
it a potato kugel or uncooked shortbread dough?
I took the advice of my wise
blogger buddies and pre-cooked the base, then inadvertently destroyed any
crunch that could have ensued by placing a baking sheet under the pan while the
top half finished cooking. What was I thinking? Mental note: baking sheet under
glass pan = soggy-bottomed cookies. Won’t make that mistake again.
Next time, I’ll also wait
until they are fully cooled before dusting the top with confectioner’s sugar
(despite the instructions in the recipe). Hopefully this will result in a prettier presentation
and significantly less sugar on top, since there already is plenty of sugar in
the dough.
Despite the somewhat gooey
and super-sweet outcome, the shortbread was appreciated by all. That’s what
they tell me, anyway. Let’s go with that. Let’s just say we’re all winners
today. Except for the poor friends who never did get my gifts of the delightful
rhubarb jam. Maybe next spring.
For the recipe, visit: Lynette of 1smallkitchen. or Cher of The not so exciting adventures of a dabbler…
Delicious Shortbread!
ReplyDeleteI've made some little changes to save on fat and Kcal and was still delicious!
Greetings from Switzerland.
Good for you. I'm going to have to move in that direction too if I'm going to remain standing through the end of this TWD insanity! I'll keep an eye out for your adjustments.
Deleteyour own rhubarb jam! wow!
ReplyDeleteA little of this shortbread goes a long way... :)
Agreed. I froze half the shortbread for a rainy non-baking day. But the jam is long gone.
DeleteLucky you with a friend that will share their fresh rhubarb! Yeah, I'll skip the powdered sugar on hot cookie step next time too.
ReplyDeleteI like the way it looks with the confectioner's sugar dusted on top right out of the oven. It makes it more of an icing and the crackled effect is pretty. I also made the rhubarb jam, but I am sure yours was even better since you were able to pick yours fresh from the garden!
ReplyDeleteSome of mine was icing-like, and some of it was just gushy glop. I"m not sure how to manage that differential unless I wait for them to fully cool. But I agree that the crackly parts looked very cool.
Deleteyou are so right. it did look like potato kugel. Sure didn't taste like kugel though! (http://bakewithamy.wordpress.com
ReplyDeleteI think I was still in matzah meal mode when I made these. Why is it that we only make potato kugel at Passover? It deserves more than an annual appearance, and it's own blog entry for sure.
DeleteYour shortbread looks perfectly lovely and so delicious! Nicely done!
ReplyDeleteI loved the rhubarb jam too! Who knew it was so easy? Sorry about the bottom getting soggy but I'm sure it still tasted great. Mine were soft - more like a bar than a cookie - and I still thought it was really good.
ReplyDeleteI froze half of the finished cookies and will try to crunch them up when I bake them a second time.
DeleteI hope your knuckles heal quickly :-)
ReplyDeleteI usually raid my parents rhubarb patch out behind their barn every summer - unfortunately, this recipe came too early to do that... I guess I will just have to find something else to do with all that goodness.
Great job!
Strubarb pie.
DeleteAnd I love having friends who aren’t afraid to try new recipes, bake wonderful bread to spread the yummy new recipes on and share the delightful bounty with me!! AND the Hungarian Shortbread was delicious too! Happy days!
ReplyDeleteIf it weren't for great neighbors, we'd both be 300 pounds heavier!
DeleteFunny, I thought of potato kugel too. You are so lucky to have friends with fresh rhubarb. We are trying to grow rhubarb, but we still don't seem to have any. Glad everyone enjoyed the shortbread!
ReplyDelete