I’m ready for the juicy stuff.
Working with our farmers and producers is one of the greatest things about where we are in the country. We develop relationships and we work together, anticipating the food that’s going to spring up next. For me, all I can think about right now is rhubarb. I took my two-year-old nephew out to the side of my parents’ house about three weeks ago to show him where it grows. We touched the soil and the leaves and talked about how big it was going to be. It was still pretty chilly that day, but we imagined what the air will feel like when the plant is bigger. Hot. Sunny. Maybe even humid.
I send texts to our egg farmers, who are also our spinach farmers, and soon-to-be other vegetables and fruit farmers. Most specifically to this instant, our egg farmers. “How’s the rhubarb?,” I ask. “Are you bringing it this week with the eggs?” Last week it was still two weeks out. That means next week, right?
The best part is imagining slicing through it. Then piling it in a pot and smelling it simmer for a while until it’s pure confectionary gold. It will be tart and wonderful. I want to put it in scones, make tarts, fill cakes, put it between macarons. Maybe I’m a little over excited.
I’m ogling other people’s rhubarb pastry photos, while I wait to take my own. Spring daydreams, full of pastries, full of produce.
What could be better?
Photo credits: www.hummingbirdhigh.com, www.hollylovescake.com, Martha Stewart