Before it's gone: rhubarb mostarda

Ragazzi, one of the things about living and eating seasonally is that you sometimes never feel like you've eaten enough of one thing, before it's gone. Annalena usually does not feel that way about the truly early ramps and fiddleheads, and certainly does feel it about things like asparagus, which are probably gone now, local morels, which are gone, nettles, which may be gone, and rhubarb, which is waning. Actually, rhubarb will be around a bit longer, but at this time of year, it begins to get big and tough, and with all the other things that are available (black raspberries, red raspberries, cherries, peaches, etc), it gets pushed to the side.

For Annalena, one of the issues is that rhubarb is so integrally associated with desserts, and Annalena just is not a dessert eater. No, like one of her favorite chefs, Daisy, Annalena is in the camp of "I'll pass on the cake, but another pork chop, please." So I am constantly looking for ways to work rhubarb into savory concoctions.

I have made a rhubarb chutney, and I have put it in salads (not a good idea). Somewhere along the line, however, I had a rhubarb mostarda in a restaurant.

"Mostarda." Do you know that word? It's an Italian condiment that, to be honest, Annalena finds ghastly. Whole candied fruits (if they are small), are combined in a sweet and spicy syrup. Apparently, it is mustard flavored, which is why it is called "mostarda." To Annalena, it is like fruit cocktail in insinglass (look it up). I simply cannot abide it. (Incidentally, "mustard" in Italian is "senape." So if you see mostarda on a menu, do not expect to get Gulden's. The word is, as they say a "false friend".)

What I had was not a "mostarda" I would call it more a puree or paste. But it was good. So, if you don't like calling this mostarda, call it puree, or call it sauce, or call it "rhubarb stuff". Just make it while you can. It's very easy to do, and it's SO good with things like pork or sausages.

You are going to need about 1/2-2/3 cup of sugar and a good 1/3 cup of vinegar. I used white wine vinegar, but you should use what moves you. If you are using a sweeter vinegar, like balsamic, or sherry, perhaps you should cut back on the sugar. Put all of this in a pot with a nice hefty tablespoon of chopped ginger. If you like ginger a lot, put in more. Then chop up some garlic. I used a full head of spring (or, green) garlic, but if you're using the older, dried stuff, cut it back. Bring this to a simmer in a heavy pot, and keep stirring until the sugar is dissolved.

If you haven't prepped the next ingredients already, you can turn off the heat while you cut 1.5 pounds of rhubarb into small pieces. Let's say 1.5 inches or so. Also, chop half of a large onion. Red is preferred, but you can do it with anything you like. If you happen to have the smaller, spring onions that are so wonderful right now, use those. Add these to the pot, raise the heat, and cook until the rhubarb begins to break down. Keep in mind that, as it sits, the rhubarb will decompose further. So, you decide on the level of "chunkiness" you prefer, and stop cooking just before it is going to reach it.

You can store this for a long time. The vinegar tends to keep things nice and preserved, and the ginger comes out more as it sits.

Annalena could eat this right out of the container, but with pork chops, or ribs, this is truly wonderful. It goes well with sausages of any kind, and any smoked meats too.

Make a batch of it. By now you should be freezing your rhubarb for the winter, and if you haven't, get this while you can.