Thanks to a new canning setup from local home-goods store Mirador; now I can scald six quarts of goodness at one time, if the opportunity presents itself. These are the 1/2 pints only; I also got 3 full pints as well.
Strawberry-rhubarb, baby. I’d never before really apprciatd what rhubarb does for a strawberry pie … It brings tartness, texture, and oh! that *color* — a brightness, a pinkiness. I’ve made lattice-top pies before, but this one was especially good.
That’s probably because of the strawberries — Hood River berries, shaped like tiny pineapples and solid luscious red all through, not a hint of white pith. Sweet? Awwww yeah …
So where’d the rhubarb come from then? Now there’s a story; Alex and I (oh didn’t I mention that Alex visited? For a bit less than a week, and he left with us something rather special, which I’ll get to next.) Anyway, in an effort to share yet more of Oregon’s scenic beauty, we drove out through the wine country, only to pass by a field of freshly- harvested rhubarb. Gleaning ensued. Also ensued: rhubarb compote, rhubarb cobbler, rhubarb preserves, and – as pictured – pie.
I write this, btw, directly from a haircut session:
Awaiting me @ home to be sewn: a flower-girl dress; a tulle underslip; last and probably least, my own wedding garb. Time left: 26 hours. Will it happen? Stay tuned … After all, what *ever* happens without a deadline?