Rose Gray's and Ruth Rogers's Roasted Rhubarb

Sometimes, the best recipes are really more instructions rather than recipes - instructions that manage to entirely change the way you think about food. Like when you learn that sprinkling flaky salt on a sliced tomato wedge will transform the taste of the tomato in your mouth. Or that a drizzle of good olive oil over a bowl of pureed soup will elevate it into something special. Or that a good stewing will give even the blandest supermarket apricot the tangy, warm flavor that a freshly picked one has.

These revelations may not be earth-shattering, but they change the way we nourish ourselves, the way we approach the humble stuff in our crispers and pantries. They're the things that make a good cook great.

Where and how do we learn these little trucs? Sometimes it's by accident or through experimentation. Often, I find that simple ideas about how to make food taste better crop up in the most unexpected of places. Would you believe that I learned how to poke holes into a leg of lamb for slivers of raw garlic in a book I read one summer when I was thirteen?

Last week I bought my first rhubarb of the summer, planning to stew it with sugar on the stove top as I always do, turning it into a soft, sweet, puckery mess of greenish strands to be stirred into yogurt and eaten with a spoon. But then I remembered Amanda Hesser's recent article on rhurbarb and a recipe she'd excerpted from Ruth Rogers's and Rose Gray's book, Italian Two Easy. Now, some people find their cookbooks too simplistic, too easy. To me, those two ladies have just understood that good, humble food is about sourcing great ingredients and using the lightest touch necessary.

But then again, my kitchen motto seems to be "The Easier, the Better". So they're preaching to the choir here.

In their recipe, lengths of rhubarb roast briefly in a vanilla-bean-infused broth of orange juice and Demerara sugar. I had to improvise, with neither vanilla beans nor oranges in the house. I cut up my rhubarb, spread the lengths out in a glass baking dish, zested half a lemon over the rhubarb, squeezed in the juice, sprinkled a bit more sugar than called for to counterbalance the sour lemon and dribbled in some vanilla extract. I tossed the whole lot around, then slid the pan into the preheated oven.

After 25 minutes, I pulled out the pan. The rhubarb was meltingly tender and bathed in a delicious vanilla-scented sauce. It was smart to have over-compensated with the sugar as the lemon had really punched up the already sour rhubarb. I ate a bowl, still warm, plain. And then, later, spooned the rhubarb lengths and the syrup into some yogurt. For a dinner party, I'd transform this into a classic English fool by gently stirring the rhubarb into some lightly sweetened whipped cream. You could even pile the fruit onto a meringue base topped with whipped cream for a twist on the classic berry pavlova.

But all these delicious possibilities aside, what really made me giddy was the fact that I'd finally stumbled on a way of cooking rhubarb that didn't reduce it to the usual muddy puddle of cellulose. Instead, the lengths kept their rosy integrity intact and were as pretty to the eye as they were to my palate. This trick is going into my kitchen arsenal. I don't know that I'll ever cook rhubarb any other way again.

So, tell me, dear readers: what are the simple kitchen tips and tricks you've learned over the years and how did you learn them? What has become so much a part of your cooking repertoire that you can't imagine living without it?

Roasted Rhubarb
Serves 4

14 ounces rhubarb
1 blood or navel orange (or 1 lemon)
2 vanilla beans or 1 teaspoon of pure vanilla extract (or more to taste)
3 tablespoons Demerara sugar (more if you're using the lemon)
2/3 cup creme fraiche (optional)

1. Preheat the oven to 300 degrees. Cut the rhubarb into 2-to-2 1/2-inch pieces and place in a medium bowl. Finely grate the zest of half the orange over the rhubarb and then squeeze the juice of the whole orange into the bowl. Split the vanilla beans and scrape out the seeds and place both in the bowl. Add the sugar and stir to combine.

2. Pour the rhubarb into a baking dish and arrange the pieces so that they lie flat. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes. Remove the vanilla pods. Serve with creme fraiche. 

Comments

[Caroline]

I have always been afraid of rhubarb for no good reason because I love the flavor! This roasting with vanilla sounds fantastic. mmm

A tip I learned recently: Cut away the thin layer of white inside a red pepper before using it in salads or eating raw. It is so much more sweet, delicious and colorful!

[Nancy]

I happen to love their recipes, especially one that was in the NYTimes a few years back for cherry tomaotes baked in a ricotta custard. Yum.
How about the whole anchovy thing, that sauteing it with some garlic and a little hot pepper makes broccoli rabe or even broccoli sing sweet music in my mouth.

[Nosheteria]

That rhubarb sounds delectable. I guess that roasting would have to be my trick. I roast just about every vegetable that I put in my mouth from December to April. It makes the flavors more intense, carmelizing does the trick every time.

[Mercedes]

Oh, how well said. Simple really is sublime.

As for my tip, it's hard to think of those little tricks that simply become part of your routine.
I'd say marinating fish for a longer time than usually recommended. For example, put some fish in a good amount of lemon juice and some olive oil in the morning or midday, then broil/roast the fish at dinner time. It produces the most delicate tender fish ever.
Oh, and braising just about any vegetable you cann think of.

[Lydia]

One thing I learned recently is about cooking chicken; a chef from Providence made some meltingly wonderful chicken thighs, and when I asked him for the recipe, he said, "Cook them until you think they're done, and then keep cooking them for the same amount of time again. Instead of getting overcooked, they get cooked to mouthwatering perfection." He was right, and although it's counterintuitive, I cook my chicken for very long times, and it's delicious.

[radish]

oh that looks perfect!! I always poke slits in my turkey/chicken when i roast them and stick slivers of garlic in there, but i also roast poultry on a rack and pour a little bit of orange juice on the bottom and slice and apple and an onion there too, the resulting caramelized paste is pure heaven!

[Mary]

The rhubarb looks delicious, but I also like a good old rhubarb compote (the thing that everyone seems to be complaining about). As for kitchen tricks, don't move things about too much and I second the "cook things longer than you think you should" for many things. Let the onions get good and browned, ditto on other vegetables. From looking in the pastry shops in France, I realized that cakes, tarts, cookies, etc. are usually better when they get a little darker than you think they should. The Maillard reaction rules!

[wellunderstood]

one of my favorite "tricks" involves the power of coarse salt and a mortar and pestle. whether it's caesar-style anchovy dressing or pesto, crushing herbs or garlic or little oily fish manually (aided by the salt) seems to offer superior texture and flavor to my food processor (which i use for a battery of other tasks). it seems almost like magic.

[Honeybee]

One great trick my aunt taught me: when frying chicken thighs, sprinkle a little icing sugar into the oil/butter before adding the meat - the chicken will brown very beautifully and you won't taste the sugar in the end.

I'll definitely roast by next batch of rhubard as I never seem to be able not to cook it into a mush.

[Alexandra Coursen]

I like this treatment of rhubarb, and will go out into my garden and cut some and try it. But I can never forget the great rhubarb pie of my grandmother Ethel. And it is very simple. 3 cups rhubarb cut in 1/2" pieces, mixed with 2 eggs, 1 3/4 cup sugar, 4 Tablespoons of flour and a little salt. Put in pie crust and cover with pie crust. Bake at 450 F for 10 minutes, then 340 for 30 minutes. This is great warm, but better after being refridgerated. The filling gets a bit crystalline, and very addictive.

[Garrett]

THis sounds equisite. I use a similar prep to poach pears, never thought of doing it with rhubarb.

[lindy]

Next time I make rhubarb ice cream, I'm going to roast the rhubarb for sure. Did you see the rhubarb crumb-cake article in the NYTimes today? (Of course you did, you're the Wednesday chef,-a silly question!)
I thought it looked very promising, and if I get more rhubarb in my next CSA box, I'm going to try it, too. No rhubarb in the box today, but that's okay, because there are real, actual strawberries in there, so I must go now to perform the geeky strawberry kitchen dance. It's embarrassing-even without an audience-but I can't help it.

[ann]

My favorite trick, shockingly enough, involve pickles. I remember reading an article in Martha a few years ago about making refrigerator pickles. It was like the heavens opened, sun rays gently caressed my cheeks and the birdies started tweeting more sweetly. Pickles made in just a day or two?
GENIUS.

I've been contemplating rhubarb lately, and this might be my recipe. Thanks Luisa!

[Sonja]

Hi Luisa - I just wanted to say, that I truly enjoy your blog!
And one promise:
Wenn es das nächste Mal Kirschen gibt (müsste bald so weit sein :) ) dann setze ich mich in meine berliner Küche, höre den Vögeln zu, esse meine Kirschen und denke an Dich und Dein phantastisches Posting!
All the best and keep up the brillant work!
Sonja

[Luisa]

Caroline - don't be afraid of rhubarb! It can and will be your friend, I promise ;)

Nancy - ooh, I used to have that one lying around here somewhere. There's a bill granger recipe for a tomato tart that's similar - I'm thinking of conflating the two sometime this summer. Stay tuned!

Adrienne - do you have Barbara Kafka's book on roasting? It's seems like such a "duh" book, but it's one of the dirtiest ones in my kitchen (um, dirty in the good way).

Mercedes - thank you! That's a tip I've never heard of - will have to try it soon! And the texture doesn't get mushy or anything? I agree with you on braising. I'm totally obsessed with Molly Stevens' book on braising - vegetables, scallops, beef, NOTHING goes unbraised. Yum.

Lydia - another one I've never heard of and am now dying to try. Does it matter what way you cook the chicken (broiling, roasting, sauteeing, whatever)?

Radish - yum, that does sound heavenly!

Mary - indeed it does!

Wellunderstood - you've reminded me that I am ridiculous for not yet owning my own mortar and pestle. Must remedy soon!

Honeybee - oh, I hope you like it. I think you will, especially if the greenish mush has you down ;)

Alexandra - now THAT I must try. Thank you so much for sharing your grandmother's recipe! I can't wait.

Garrett - roasted pears are soo good, aren't they? It almost makes me sad that pear season is over (not really, though, because the berries are here! Finally!).

Lindy - I did see the recipe (of course), but I don't have plans to make it anytime soon, so please please please write about it when you do so I can hear how it is! Don't be embarrassed about strawberry dances - I think we've all been there, in some capacity or another ;)

Ann - hee, I love the image of your pickle rapture. And I agree that refrigerator pickles are indeed a revelation. I'll be doing them myself in a few weeks!

Sonja - meine Eifersucht kennt momentan keine Grenzen! Geniess die Kirschen und die Voegel und schick ein kleines Kuesschen meinerseits an die Berliner Luft, wenn du mit den Kirschkernen spuckst :)

[Tiny Banquet Committee]

I just cooked my first rhubarb ever - stewed with sugar and then stirred in a teaspoon or so of rosewater. It's good but I've never met a roasted fruit or vegetable I didn't like, so I'll have to try this too.
My indispensable kitchen technique: putting herbs under the skin of a chicken before roasting it. I learned this from the recipe for roasted chicken with fresh bay leaves in Jerry Traunfeld's The Herbfarm Cookbook, and since then nearly every chicken I roast gets some type of herb or herb-and-olive-oil paste under the skin before it goes into the oven. Of course the chicken becomes more flavorful but I also love the appearance, the outline of green leaves under the crispy skin. If you're feeling lazy you don't even have to chop any herbs; with whole sprigs of thyme, you can simply pull out the woody stem once the chicken is plated and most of the leaves will stay put between the skin and the meat.

[Myrtille]

I tried this fantastically simple and tasty recipe.
Thanks!I just added some setchouan pepper...

[Carolyn]

Just made this last night and it was excellent. I'm not so sure about 4 servings, though - my husband and I gobbled the entire dish up quite easily! :-)

[Andrea]

This was my first attempt at rhubard. Certainly won't be the last! It got rave reviews. Thank you.

[thelaundry]

My favourite way to cook rhubarb, discovered this season: sprinkle cut rhubarb with sugar, the zest and juice of a lime and just a small splash of water then bake uncovered until it's tender but not collapsed. The resulting syrup is sublime.

[marty]

Just wanted to say thanks for this recipe! I made it both with the lemon and orange and loved it.

[Luisa]

TBQ - I love that trick of sliding herbs under chicken skin before roasting. I've also done it with bone-in chicken breasts when I do them instead of a whole bird. Lovely!

Myrtille - Sichuan pepper with the roasted rhubarb sounds totally inspired! I'm impressed with your ingenuity.

Carolyn - yeah....it's funny, that rhubarb stuff. Goes down quite easily and before you know it, it's gone ;)

Andrea - your first rhubarb! I'm thrilled that it was this lovely recipe. Glad you enjoyed it.

thelaundry - that DOES sound good and not dissimilar to this recipe. That syrup, wouldn't it be fun to experiment with it? As a sweetener for iced tea, or for soaking pound cake in a trifle, perhaps...

Marty - I'm so pleased!

[Lydia]

This entry was a link from David Libovitz's blog. I tried this today and thought I had died and gone to heaven. This is absolutely hands down my favorite way to make and eat rhubarb. I ate half of it myself.

[Laura V]

Heh, I got this link from Lydia (the commenter above me).

I used the ingredients but threw them in a foil packet & tossed them on the grill after the main meal was done...20 minutes later, rhubarby perfection for dessert!

[Dona]

The best rhubarb always grew near my grandmother's chicken coop. She always stewed it with lots of sugar and said it was a Spring "tonic". As a child I loved it raw dipped in sugar.
I can't wait to try your roasted rhubarb recipe. I'll present it with vanilla ice cream and an almond lace cookie at my next dinner party and think of my grandmother.