Growing up in Southern California I never heard of such a thing.
My mid-western mother surely had, but I'm guessing there wasn't an over abundance of rhubarb in the produce isle in our suburb of Los Angeles.
Either that or she was just holding out on what was to become one of my all time favorite desserts.
Enter my not yet mother-in-law who forced a bit of dessert on a malnourished big city Valley Girl, soon to be her daughter in law.
I ate it to be polite.
There is also a poisonous kind of rhubard, so I don't advocate going out to the field and harvesting stuff that looks just like this photograph. I won't be responsible if you croak from this recipe.
But if you have a sweet old aunt somewhere who happens to have a huge rhubarb plant, ask her if you can cut some. You just slice it off at the end of the stalks or pull it out.
Some people will eat a fresh stalk of the tart rhubarb right off the plant. I call those people nuts. They can't have decent taste buds and eat that stuff!
My daughter has a friend whose mom sent a bag full home for me. I. Love. Her.
Clean it all up and slice and dice......
If you have extra, you can just plop it in a ziplock and put it in the freezer till you are wanting some rhubarb in the middle of winter.
Make the crust from the recipe. Or again, if you are like me, make a little more because you are using an over sized 9x13 pan with extra rhubarb.
Right about now my regular readers are thinking, what the heck, Bliss actually cooked and lived to blog about it?
I cook every day. That's how I keep my girlish figure. Ummmm, riiight. And I think I'm a darn good cook if I do say so myself.
But I don't like the steps involved to post tutorials. And doing this one reminded me of that.
I will never ever be a food blogger, but from time to time I have to share my favorites - because I don't want to be accused of holding out on you like my mother did to me.
These days she has altered it a bit for herself to make it more low fat with less sugar. She says it tastes the same.
I'm still making it full on, and my thighs can attest to that.
It's called a torte, and who am I to argue, but I don't know that it would be considered an actual torte. But I don't care what they named it, because I'd eat it if someone called it "Sour Rhubarb Turned Sweet Dessert".
It bakes up into a yummy custardy like thing with a meringue top.
It is best served cooled - warm is kinda funky - and it's good the next day out of the fridge.
In fact it's so good that if you leave it on the stove to cool, by morning you and your family are so into enjoying it, that you don't even realize you forgot to take a picture of if cut on a plate, till the pan is licked clean.
The golden rule; "you always photograph before you indulge".
I just go right for the silver...... ware that is - fork to mouth.
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