Hiatus over: rhubarb ginger sorbet, and a RANT

Ragazzi, I have no excuses other than, perhaps laziness. It has been nearly 3 months since I have come onto this blog, and to be honest, I had no wish to. Would that I could say something monumental had happened during that time. Not so. Would that I could say there had been a magnificent trip. Well, there was our annual spring trip to San Francisco that was, as always, enchanting (and if Annlena reviewed theatre here, she would tell you all about "Tales of the City," ). Not so. No excuses, no regrets. Time moves on, we move on, and now, we come back.

Would that I were not starting with a RANT, but I am. And it is a rant that I believe many of you share: cookbooks that are written badly. I have proposed, in the past, that cookbooks should be graded or rated, in the way that movies are, so that a beginner knows, for example, that a cookbook is too difficult for him or her (they exist. I once had a cookbook with a recipe that gave, as its first ingredient: "1 quart of white sauce." No recipe for white sauce appeared in the book. It was simply assumed that you knew how to make it. Yet another time the recipe began with "one boned turkey, 8-10 pounds." A boned turkey is not something you can routinely pick up. ). But in addition to these ratings, I am convinced that cookbooks are the reason why so many people think they cannot cook. The recipes , often, are written so badly, or are out and out WRONG, that you cannot help but go wrong.
Recently, a very well renowned, famous chef, a former contestant on "Top Chef Masters," published a cookbook. Some of the recipes are terrific. Some are not. For example, there is a recipe for biscotti that calls for ELEVEN CUPS of ingredients, to make a dozen cookies.
Where I'm from, we call those cakes.
There is another recipe for a "slow roasted leg of lamb," which calls for roasting it for seven hours, at 350. Believe me, gang, seven hours at 350 will give you charcoal.
Now, here's the even more troubling thing: the cookbook received RAVE reviews, INCLUDING THE LAMB RECIPE. HUH???? What is happening here.
More recently, Annalena purchased a cookbook recommended by Saveur. She's made two recipes, and has had to remake them. Why? Well, the one we are considering here, is a sorbet. The recipe states that the yield is "1.5 cups."

1.5 cups of sorbet? Are we feeding Munchkins? In any event, as you go down the recipe, you see "3 pounds rhubarb, cleaned."
HUH? Further on, there is the line "after cooking, you should have about four cups.

OK, now by what magic spell do four cups of rhubarb become 1.5 cups of sorbet. "Six white mice will never be six white horses," and "impossible things are happening every day," but not in my kitchen.
The recipe clearly meant 1.5 QUARTS of sorbet, which is what I had at the end, but did no one proofread the recipe? This is not a question of "too salty for my taste," or "just a bit too much butter." And ask yourself: are you going to bother making sorbet if you get 1.5 cups at the end?

Ok, end of rant. Onto the recipe. Which makes 1.5 quarts. Not difficult, and good. Here we go.

First, you need to make ginger syrup, which is a very useful thing to have around, period. Get about half a pound of ginger, and chop it coarsely. Don't peel it, you don't need to. Combine it with a cup of sugar, and a cup and a half of water. Bring it to the heat, and when the sugar melts, take it off the heat and let the ginger steep for at least an hour, more if you can. You can use this syrup for other thngs, like making homemade ginger ale, or as a glaze for meat or poultry, or on a cake, whatever you like.

Put it aside, while you clean up, and chop, 3 pounds of rhubarb. Cut it into .5-1 inch pieces and put it in a big pot. Cover it, and let it cook, at low heat. VERY low heat. After about ten minutes, stir it. You'll see it begin to dissolve, and, when the stuff is the texture of a thick apple puree, you're done with cooking.

At this point, you can leave the rhubarb alone, if you like a sorbet with texture. Or, you can press it through a foodmill, using whatever size openings you like, remembering that bigger ones, give a coarser product. Or, if you want things really smooth, puree the stuff in a blender.

Drain the syrup from the chopped ginger, and add it - ALL of it - to the rhubarb. Taste. You won't really taste too much ginger at this point (that comes later), but adjust the sweetness if you need to.

When the thing cools down, process it in your ice cream maker, either in one, or two batches. You will easily get 1.5 quarts.

It's fat free, it's seasonal, and ginger is supposed to have scads of health benefits that we can all use.

Annalena likes it rough, so she did not puree her rhubarb at all. You may choose to do otherwise.

Go forth, ragazzi e ragazze. Annalena has returned.