I Root for Rhubarb
Rhubarb, when it sets its mind to it, can be a thing of beauty. Red satin ribbons of seductive flavor – teasing first with tartness and then appealing to you with a mellow finish. But it’s also a fickle food, sometimes showing up in defiant shades of green and pink and only half-heartedly delivering on taste. So when the rhubarb looks particularly hot and virgin-pink, it just calls out for you to buy it. And winter is a surprisingly good season to buy this edible plant. It’s the kind of produce that does better with a little assistance, more so than it does growing on its own in its natural season. You probably won’t even mind that it comes from a hothouse when it tastes so darn good.
If you happen to strike it lucky at your local grocery store and come upon a good stalk of rhubarb, your biggest dilemma may be what to do with it next. The unfortunate thing about being such a high maintenance plant with a complex love-it-or-hate-it flavor is that it often gets shunned in the recipe department. Typically, strawberries are sent alongside to rescue rhubarb from itself. But when you’re buying great rhubarb, you should taste it in its pure form without the patronizations of more popular fruit.
So here’s a recipe that showcases rhubarb – both with eye appeal and mouth appeal. The pistachios give a nice accent color and a snappy little crunch for contrast. And at this more dismal time of year, the summery flavor is quite a boon.
RUSTIC RHUBARB TART
Ingredients
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour, separated
1/3 cup plus 3 tablespoons sugar, separated
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 sticks cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
2 tablespoons ice cold water
1/3 cup unsalted pistachios
1 tsp cinnamon
3/4 lb rhubarb stalks
2 tsp lemon zest
In large bowl, stir together 1 cup flour, 1 tablespoon sugar, and salt. Blend in butter with a pastry blender to get those familiar “pea-size lumps” recipes always talk about. Add the ice water and mix dough with a fork. Add additional water in teaspoon amounts if necessary to keep dough holding together.
Turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface and smash it with the heel of your hands – this will move the fat (butter) around and distribute it evenly. Do this a couple times, then gather dough and form into a ball. Flatten the ball into a disk and wrap in plastic wrap and stick in the fridge. Chill it for at least an hour and up to a day.
Take the dough out of the fridge, unwrap and place between two sheets of wax paper. Using a rolling pin, roll out into a circle – about 9 or 10 inches in diameter. Don’t worry if it isn’t a perfect circle. This is a rustic tart; leave your pretensions at the door.
Chill the circle of dough, still between the two sheets of wax paper, for about fifteen minutes. Meanwhile, prepare your filling.
Mix your pistachios, remaining flour, 2 tablespoons sugar, and teaspoon of cinnamon in a food processor. Pulse to a coarse powder.
Cut the rhubarb into thin slices, as if you were cutting celery for a salad.
Now it’s time to assemble. Remove one sheet of wax paper from the dough and invert it onto a baking sheet, then remove the other sheet of wax paper. Pull the edges of the dough in and fold over to create a border of crust (almost an inch wide) all the way around the circle. Sprinkle the pistachio mixture over the dough (avoiding the crust), then top with the rhubarb. You can arrange it in concentric circles, or any other way you fancy.
Score the edge of the crust with a small knife and chill the tart for another fifteen minutes.
While it’s chilling, preheat your oven to 375.
Sprinkle the lemon zest and 1/3 cup of sugar over the rhubarb and bake in the oven (on a lower shelf), for about 35 minutes. The crust should be golden brown and the rhubarb should be soft when pierced with a fork.
Cool your gorgeous, pink and green tart on a rack for about fifteen minutes before serving. Enjoy it warm or at room temperature, with whipped cream, cinnamon ice cream, or classically plain.




I’m one of those weird people… I prefer raw rhubarb to cooked any day. It’s tart and almost a challenge to eat, but my grandma had some in her backyard; I’d just go out there with a salt shaker and have a stalk or 2!