Late To The Dance

I'm one of those people who is slow off the mark. I didn't finish college until I was in my forties and I didn't start blogging until 2007. I didn't marry My Beloved until I was in my fifties. Likewise, it's already the middle of spring and I am only now showing you my rhubarb.

Like those other things in my life, it was so worth the wait. I happened across two pounds of beautiful, deep pink rhubarb stems in my local supermarket and bought them on a whim. I have never made anything from rhubarb before, although I certainly have enjoyed it previously.

I found this recipe on the interwebs - it sounded sufficiently easy and tasty for me to give it a whirl, especially since my care package from Jeanne included some Valencia oranges, perfect for juicing. Just look at how beautifully it turned out! Mother Nature's jewel, rhubarb has that same pink-and-green thing going on as watermelon tourmalines - gorgeous stuff.

The taste was gorgeous, too. The sweet of the orange glaze played like a polite kindergartner with the tart of the rhubarb and the orange zest. Plus, the whole thing is cradled in light, crisp puff pastry that crumbles apart into flakes as light as mica. It was so good that I chased the last few drops and shards around the plate with a tongue-moistened finger. I hope my proper mother wasn't looking down from heaven - she'd have been horrified by such unladylike behavior.

I may come late to the dance, but once I get there, I rock out!