Strange Bedfellows

Many of my recent experiments in the kitchen were inspired by a pastry that was, itself, particularly inspired. It was a pear-rosemary tart from the local (fantastic) bakery Le Fournil. What I loved about the tart was the unexpected combination of two so different, yet complimentary flavours. Given my love for both rosemary and pears, (and fantastic pastries,) it is no siurprise that I fell head-over-heels and decided to try my own such unusual combinations, though I had to wait for the right opportunity to present itself.

Rhubarb is one of those plants which I'm surprised humans ever started eating in the first place. Its leaves are poisonous, it is bright red, and it is fibrous and very tart until cooked. Whether for related reasons or not, 'rhubarb' also means 'a fight or argument' and, colloquially, refers to the occasional good-old-fashioned throw-down in baseball. And yet, the peculiar vegetable is pie-maker's gold.

I had never been very interested in rhubarb until I saw a box of it at the farmers' market two weeks ago. It is one of the first edibles to show up in the spring, and it grows explosively. It keeps on growing for basically the entire spring and summer, provided the weather does not get too hot. I was browsing through the market and saw a box full of the stuff, early rhubarb - the beginning of the season, and despite having never before done anything with it, I wanted to buy some. And then, eureka! Next to the box of rhubarb was a box of basil - this stuff definitely the first of the season and also something I buy in massive quantities later in the summer to make pesto, so I was excited to see it starting to appear. And then I thought, 'why not?'

The people who did not think I was completely nuts for attempting a combination of rhubarb and basil at least thought I was momentarily a bit off. But since when has that been a reason not to try a recipe? My mom, who loves rhubarb, told me the basics of making a rhubarb compote to put over yoghurt and the Joy of Cooking gave me the rest of what I needed to know about pies and cobblers so I could start actually making stuff.
I decided to try two different things - a compote and a cobbler, though both start from the same basic mixture so it was very simple. The compote I kept simple - just rhubarb and basil with a squirt of lemon - but the cobbler I spiced up a bit with cinnamon. Odd as they many sound, both were delicious - the rhubarb providing that tart, fruity base and the basil giving it a refresing, summery feel. The cobbler, with the added cinnamon, was rich and savoury, sweet, but with a little spice overlaying the rhubarb and basil combination. The recipes follow. On behalf of my mom, I recommend eating the compote over non-fat, greek-style yoghurt, with or without granola. The cobbler eat hot, or cold, or reheated - I couldn't figure out what would make it not taste good.


RHUBARB-BASIL COMPOTE AND COBBLER
Both of the recipes start from the same base.

2 lbs Rhubarb Stalks, chopped into half-inch lengths (about 6 cups)
¼-½ lb Fresh Basil Leaves, chopped medium (stalks not used for this recipe)
2 C Sugar (more or less to taste)
Squirt Lemon Juice

Mix all together well in non-metal bowl and let sit for at least 20 minutes (the longer it sits, the more juice gets sucked out of the rhubarb.)

If you're making the compote, dump the whole mixture into a saucepan and cook on medium (no boiling) until the rhubarb begins to disintegrate. Taste - if too tart, add more sugar and cook a little longer. Cool, serve however you like, store in the refrigerator. It is perishable so eat it quickly, but that shouldn't be a problem.

If making the cobbler, preheat oven to 375°F and add to the mixing bowl above:
2 T Cinnamon (really up to you)
¼ C Corn Starch
Pinch Salt

You'll also need to mix up a batch of biscuit dough. Any type seems to work - I used the Joy of Cooking's basic recipe.

Mix well and let sit for a few minutes. Pour into a baking dish of some kind that will be filled at least two inches with fruit but also have space left at the top. Top with biscuit dough, either one big sheet that covers the fruit like a crust or a bunch of smaller circles of dough arranged overlapping across the top of the fruit mixture. Brush the biscuit dough with milk and sprinkle with sugar if you want to be really fancy. Bake for 40-60 minutes at 375°F (until the top is brown and lovely and the fruit mixture is bubbling up underneath.)