Ok, ragazzi, Annalena promised you a chicken recipe, and she will keep that promise; however, you know that this blog always goes off schedule for "breaking news" from the kitchen. And we have some this morning, in a recipe that allows Annalena to engage in one of her favorite hobbies: digressing. There is a tale behind this cake, and you're going to read it, whether you like it or not. Or, you can just go to the end and make Annalena sad, which you don't want to do now, do you?
So, here's the tale. We begin in San Francisco, where we begin so many things. Annalena and the Guyman are sitting in Zuni Cafe' having dinner, and there is a salad on the menu with rhubarb in it, in a ginger vinaigrette. Of course, Annalena's predisposition for the tart and sour wins out, and she gets the salad. It is a bit of a disappointment, being light on rhubarb, but moreso as she remembers that rhubarb is late this year in NY.
See, ragazzi, while we are having spring, it is a late spring this year. Annalena, food Geek that she is, knows that by April 24, she has always had local rhubarb in the kitchen. Not so this year. She and the Guyman left for San Francisco on the 12th of May, and nary a sign of rhubarb. But she knew... Or so she thought. Jetlagged though they were, Annalena and the Guyman went grocery shopping on May 26 on their return... and no rhubarb!
Now, this is not an issue on the level of world hunger, or the fact that words like "conversate" are now becoming accepted English (woe is us), but to Annalena, it was cause for concern.
But on May 28, one of her gal pals, Franca, had rhubarb! There was joy in Mudville. And Annalena brought it home, but just a bit of it, and made the salad. Good, but it is now clear that rhubarb loses its flavor in salad unless you put in so much of it that it's rhubarb rather than salad.
We jump forward, and Annalena is reading a bread book written by Josey Baker , which is worth buying just for the pictures (and she speaks not only of the bread, amici...). He has a recipe for cobbler, and speaks of how he likes STRAWBERRY cobbler, but his friends think he's a pig when he makes cobbler with only strawberries , so now he makes it with rhubarb as well.
Annalena's advice on this point is to find new friends, and she recommends herself as one. (here is a picture of Mr. Baker):
Do we have any questions? You want to be his friend too, don't you?
Aren't these digressions intriguing? And he bakes.
Ok, so how are we getting to the cake? Well, read on. It's been a while and you missed Annalena. She went to the market on Saturday and with no plans to make rhubarb anything, didn't buy any. Then she read a recipe in her Penzey's catalog for a rhubarb cake.
AH! She thought to herself. There is STILL rhubarb in the fridge. Is it enough?
No, it was not. But there were also two glorious quarts of beautiful ripe strawberries from Blind Merrie's farm (why is she so called? Well, she drives in 130 miles on Saturday mornings. And according to Merrie, if she doesn't have at least one driver yell to her 'JESUS CHRIST LADY ARE YOU BLIND? ' she's not driving fast enough. Believe it). Strawberry rhubarb... A glorious combination. Sort of like asparagus and cheese (and we will get to that too).
So, Annalena augmented the recipe, and the result is below. STOP STARING AT MR. BAKER'S PICTURE AND READ ON YOU SLUTS.
This is a very easy recipe. Absurdly easy. And as always, Annalena is going to help you with substitutions.
You start by preheating your oven to 350. Then, melt a stick of unsalted butter, and keep the paper handy. You're going to be doing some greasing (OF A PAN. NOT MR. BAKER. ). Grease a 9x13 inch pan (you can use what's left for Mr. Baker).
While the butter cools, slice enough rhubarb thinly, to get 1.5 cups. Annalena had, maybe a cup. So she sliced up two cups of strawberries as well. Do as you wish here. This is a recipe that can handle the fruit.
She did write that, didn't she? Ok, into a bowl, dump 1.5 cups of white sugar, the melted butter, a large egg (without the shell. She has to be precise here, given the picture. She knows... she knows), 1 cup of sour cream (don't do low fat here, kids). If you do not have sour cream, use a full fat yogurt. And if you don't have quite a cup, augment it with whole milk, as Annalena did. One must make these compromises, since yogurt now comes in six ounce containers. Finally, a nice bit of vanilla extract.
Now, the original recipe called for either fresh, or frozen rhubarb. Whenever Annalena has frozen rhubarb, it is in large chunks. You need the rhubarb to be solid here, so Annalena does not quite know how you would slice the frozen stuff. If you can thaw it a bit and slice it, go ahead. And in the winter, instead of using fruit, you can do this with a thick jam. Annalena will explain.
So you have all that liquid stuff. Stir it up together, and now toss in your rhubarb and your strawberries, and watch the mixture turn light pink. Add a teaspoon of either baking soda (called for ), or baking powder (what Annalena used), and two cups of all purpose flour. Stir this all up. You'll have a thick mixture. Dump it into your pan, and spread it out nice and even, and then pour either a half cup of sugar, a half cup of cinnamon sugar (make your own: you know how), or half a cup of vanilla sugar, over the thing.
Now, let's go back. If you're doing this in the winter, without fruit, but using jam, after you've dumped the batter into the pan, make little pockets of about half a teaspoon of jam all over the surface. If you are so inclined, as the Pink Lady mentioned below would be, you can get decorative.
Get the cake in the oven and bake it for 30 minutes.
It takes less time to make this cake than it does to read Annalena's musings. She will tell you, it is not the dieter's delight: with the sour cream, the cake has 3600 calories in it. There ain't much way to cut this back, ragazzi, so do it, eat small, and enjoy it.
Annalena wants to dedicate this to three of her rhubarb lovin gal pals: Mama Sue, Gilda in Houston, and the Pink Lady of Austin. Y'all know who you are, and she wants y'all to make it.
Did Annalena tell you she's going to go and read her new bread book now?
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