Food Adventures

My own personal local food movement is seemingly eschewing the 100-mile diet in favour of a ten foot diet.

Rhubarb from my backyard has become the most lovely drink I have had in a long time. Usually, rhubarb becomes pie, but one of my girlfriends served me this very pink, sweet and tart drink the other day, and I was hooked. She was very secretive about the recipe, so off I went in search of my own, and before long, I had produced my first batch. The recipe I found calls it rhubarb nectar, my friend calls it juice. I call it surprisingly pink, since the rhubarb stalks I boiled and strained were mostly greenish. As of today, I have two jars preserved and stored away in the basement, ready for Christmas morning, and one ready for consumption in the 'fridge. I'm a bit worried about the ones in the basement, since this treat is so nice with a splash of vodka, they might not survive all the way to winter.

I'm turning into quite the pioneer lady, with only two jars left of last year's home-squeezed tomato juice sitting next to the rhubarb, which is next to the four jars of pickled asparagus I 'put up' today. I had pickled asparagus for the first time last year at an amazing dinner, rolled inside a sliver of home-hung proscuitto. There are simply no words to describe it.

And don't get me started on the strawberries. You-pick starts today. I can't wait!