Rhubarb Vodka Tonic and a Homemade Rhubarb Ginger Liqueur

Rhubarb is an amazing thing to have in your garden.  It comes back bigger and better every year, and the more you use it, the more you will get.  It's one of the first edibles to sprout in the spring, and mine tend to produce well through summer into fall.  The rosy red stalks make me smile, and I love sneaking their aggressively tart flavor into treats of many sorts.

Come springtime this year, my inbox suddenly was filled with rhubarb inspired drinks, and that made me go into mad scientist bartender mode.  I looked at a few and then decided that they weren't quite what I wanted, so I set about making my own Rhubarb Ginger Liqueur.

First off, I chopped up a bunch of rhubarb from my garden, as much as my first harvest held, which was about a pound and a half.  

Then I made a quick simple syrup by heating a half a cup of sugar with a quarter cup of water until the sugar dissolved.  

I took a big jar and put in the rhubarb, the simple syrup, 3 cups of vodka, and a half cup of ginger liqueur.  

Put the lid on, give it a good shake, and let it sit at room temperature, shaking daily, for about 2 weeks, until the rhubarb has released all of its color into the liqueur.

Then I strained it through a fine mesh strainer and bottled it up to store.

But whoops!  It couldn't all fit in the jar I chose, so I had to sample it in a little beverage.

Take the rhubarb ginger liqueur, top it off with some tonic, and BOOM: Rhubarb Vodka Tonic.  I garnished mine with a little rhubarb twist from harvest #2 for the year.

It's tart and sweet and everything that I love about rhubarb, with the smallest hint of ginger to keep things interesting.  And that color...so bright and cheery!

Cheers to spring, my friends!

Chive Jelly

We have a chive plant that is more than just a plant in our garden.  It is a part of our heritage, a legacy.  We got the chives as a small split off of my husband's grandmother's plant at her house.  We planted it at our first house, when we were first married.  When we had our first daughter, we built a new house, and the chives moved with us across town.  Over the last decade, they have grown, and grown, and grown.  And we have shared the chives with many others.  My kids give them to teachers as gifts.  They invite friends to sample from our plant and then send them home with a split off of it so that they can plant chives in their own yards.  This particular plant has taken root in dozens of yards around the Chicago suburbs.  And it keeps going strong, just like my husband's grandma did for so many years.

This winter, sadly, time finally caught up with our beloved Gigi, and our family journeyed through one of the saddest goodbyes we've had to face.  Then, this spring, her chives popped up in our yard once again, a reminder that life grows.  We miss her terribly, but I know we will always remember her with such love, and I know that she felt that love while she was here.

As far as cooking goes, there are so, so many ways to use chives.  My kids will eat them straight out of the garden, but they also like them sprinkled on eggs or potatoes.  I mix them in with chicken dishes or with fish.  They are great in savory muffins or quick breads.  But after reading an online article about herb jellies, I started thinking about trying out a chive jelly. I'm a big fan of the more savory jellies, like onion jam and pepper jelly, and I thought that the chives would be a great spread for crackers or bread, or to use as a glaze for meat.

I started by chopping up a big bunch of the chives, about 2 cups.

I put the chopped chives in a pot with 2 cups of water, and brought it all to a boil for a couple of minutes.  Then I poured the chives and the water into a separate container, covered them, and let them seep for a couple of hours.

The next thing I did was to strain liquid from the chives through a fine mesh strainer, pushing the chives to get all the "juice" out of it.  Kind of like a chive tea.

I prepped several canning jars and lids, boiling the jars for 10 minutes and then keeping them in the hot water until I needed them.  I soaked the lids in some of the boiled water as well to soften up the seals.

I took the chive tea and put it in a large pot with 1/4 cup of white vinegar, a pinch of salt, and 4 cups of sugar and brought it up to a boil.  Then I added one package (3 ounces) of liquid pectin, brought it back to a boil for one minute, and took it off of the heat.

There was a bit of foam, so I skimmed that off of the hot jelly and then poured it into the prepared jars and put the lids and seals on.  I got about 4 pints of jelly total.

Listening to the pinging pops of the lids as they sealed made me smile.  Opening up the first jar, spreading it onto a cracker and popping it into my mouth made me smile even more.

Chive jelly is a good thing.  A really good thing.  It tastes sweet and savory, clean and grassy, and it's almost like having a bit of spring in a jar.  Very little fuss for a whole lot of yum.  Definitely worth a try!

Lemon Sunshine Blondies

I have to admit, I enjoy browsing Pinterest more than I thought I would.  And one of the ones that ALWAYS gets me is those lemon brownies.  They are sunny, and yellow, and...either made with a bunch of stuff I don't like or the reviews on them are extremely disappointing.  *sad trumpet noise*

In my head, they are buttery and citrusy and oh so wonderful.  But the reviews always seem to say that they aren't the right texture, or they don't have much lemon flavor at all.  So I made the decision, after a rough few weeks of hard-hitting real life worries around here, that I needed to make the thing that they were in my head exist.

I started with my basic blondie pattern and lemoned it up with real lemon zest, juice, and a dash of orange blossom water.  You know, to keep it from being ordinary.  So it's a quick and easy dessert, with only 7 ingredients.

Heat your oven to 350 and grease an 8 by 8 pan.

Melt a stick of butter.

While the butter is melting, measure out a cup plus a tablespoon of flour into a mixing bowl and add a dash of salt and the zest of 2 lemons.

When the butter has melted, mix a cup of sugar into it.  Then add in a cup of sugar and mix.  Add in an egg.  Then mix in 2 tablespoons of fresh lemon juice and 1 tablespoon of orange flower water (can usually be found in the international section of grocery stores, by the Middle Eastern or Mediterranean foods).  If you don't have or don't want to use the orange flour water, you can add more lemon juice or just stick with the 2 tablespoons.

Add your wet mix to the dry and stir until it is all mixed.

Pour into the prepared pan and then bake at 350 for 20-25 minutes, until it is slightly golden around the edges and set in the middle.

Let cool before slicing and enjoying.

My kids are such culinary critics these days, but they loved these.  My 8-year-old commented that she "really liked the use of the lemon zest", and my oldest kept trying to figure out "that interesting floral taste hint".  Little Mr. Picky just inhaled one, no commentary needed.  And all the adults who were lucky enough to get a taste enjoyed them as well.

They are everything I hoped they would be: bright, comforting, delicious...the essence of sunshine in a baked good.  I'd say more, but I'll keep this post like the blondies: short and sweet.  :)

CSA Share - Spring Week 4 and Carrot Top Arugula Pesto

It's the last week of our spring CSA, and while endings make me a little sad, it also makes me excited to think about the upcoming main season share we have to look forward to!  Plus, this is one of my favorite hauls yet:

Spinach, carrots, beets, arugula (double, because the hubs traded our lettuce for more!), snap peas, and garlic scapes!

CSA Share - Spring Week 3 and Unlimited Potential Spinach

In this week's CSA, we're starting to see a bit more color!  Along with a ton of green, that is.  And I was so excited for the new veggies!

We got massive bags of both spinach and lettuce, radishes, bok choy, beets, and sugar snap peas.

Rhu The Day! Rhubarb Sorrel Crisp

Pssssssst...did you know that it's rhubarb season?

I may have mentioned that before.  Like when I made Meyer lemon rhubarb marmalade.  Or rosemary rhubarb jelly.  Or rhubarb compote with Pimms.

And, if you've been following along, you know that it's also time for sorrel.  Like in these sorrel cardamom muffins.

Rhubarb and sorrel don't scream for each other, in my mind.  But, fortunately, someone was bonkers enough to try them together.  In a crisp.  A delicious, tart and sweet crisp.  I found the recipe in the Simply in Season cookbook, a gem that I picked up at an event through our CSA.  It's a great book for eating seasonally, and it definitely thinks outside the box with many of its recipes.  Actually, if you're looking to eat healthier, or more local, or more seasonally, I would highly suggest looking for a seasonal cookbook of any sort.  They tend to be about making the most out of each item for what it is, and the recipes are often simple with fantastic flavors.

But I digress...