My dearest favorite scones,

You are so fluffy and light, and I love your for it. I really do. You always put a smile on my face on a grey day, or a sunny one. You play well with my favorite fruits. My friends comment on how great you are, and ask me to share you with them. I still remember the giddy first days of loving you, when I brought you to my friend’s going away to London party. You fit in so well, and I just wanted to gobble you all up. I couldn’t keep my hands off of you.

But I have a confession. Over the past few years, my eyes have, on occasion, strayed. To scones with a little more substance. Scones that are a bit more hardy. Scones with a depth of flavor. Scones that are a bit less simple.

The moment I saw these certain buckwheat cornmeal scones and I was taken in. I must have had too many spoonfuls of the strawberry rhubarb jam that was simmering away on the stove top. I didn’t know what I was doing. Before I could come to my senses, my hands were sticky with dough. I had crossed the line.

June 5th was National Doughnut Day. Did you make doughnuts?

I was out of town, so I sadly missed it this year, but I’ve been making up for it since I’ve been home and getting very excited about the upcoming launch of Doughnuts! Did you know it comes out on October 1st? Did you know you can pre-order it on Amazon now?

Can I tempt you with a sneak peak of the book?

How about, to tide you over for a bit, you try making vetkoek (which translates to fat cake)?
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You most likely don’t need another rhubarb recipe at this time of year. There are the most beautiful recipes all over my favorite blogs. Helen’s exquisite Poached Rhubarb with Lavender Panna Cotta. Aran’s lovely Stewed Rhubarb with Lemon and Buttermilk Sherbet. Jess’s tempting Rhubarbsauce. Ashley’s yummy Rhubarb Ice Cream. Molly’s delightful Roasted Rhubarb. The list goes on and on.

But, I’m giving you one anyway because I am quite smitten with it. I’m giving you Rhubarb Bars. Or, as I keep thinking of them, RhuBars. Sadly, it is true. I am not beyond making a recipe because of a really bad pun.

I think you’ll be glad that I did though, because these really are something else. They are really entirely different than the bars you’d find if you do a google search for rhubarb bars. Those bars are more akin to a crumble or a granola bar. When I started dreaming of rhubarb bars, I was thinking of something more along the lines of lemon bars. Velvety curd and tender shortbread.

If you make nothing else, you really must make the rhubarb curd. Silky smooth and sweet-tart. I might even dare to call it luscious. It may pale some in color from the simple stewed rhubarb puree, but still holds a charming pale pink and it took just about everything in my power to keep from eating it all straight from the bowl. It’s like lemon curd all dressed up for spring. Have you ever seen rhubarb look lovelier?

But don’t forget the shortbread. Oh, it’s nothing fancy. It doesn’t need to be. The rhubarb makes everything fancy. The shortbread is buttery and flakey, and the combination of the silky curd and crumbly crust simply melts in your mouth.

Yum.

Thank goodness I have neighbors, or I would have sat and eaten the whole dozen myself.

PS: Keep your eye out for the May/June issue of Edible Seattle for my article with even more rhubarb recipes, including a simple and addictive rhubarb bruschetta that our editor Jill described as bruschetta in a party dress.

Rhubarb Curd

Adapted from this lovely recipe on Ginger Tablet

400 grams rhubarb (about 10 to 15 stalks)
1/3 cup sugar

6 egg yolks
3/4 cup sugar  
a pinch of salt
1 teaspoon lemon zest (optional)
50 grams unsalted butter, cut up into chunks

Wash and chop rhubarb into 1/2 inch chunks. There is no need to peel, but if your stalks are particularly large, you might trim off any tough parts. Stir the rhubarb and 1/4 cup of sugar together and let sit for about 10 minutes. Place in a medium sized pot with about 1/4 cup of water and cook over low heat until you can no longer see whole pieces. Turn off the heat and let cool to room temperature. Blend to a smooth puree if you desire (this will remove any remaining little stringy bits, but it isn’t necessary).

If you are making the bars, pause at this point to make and bake the crust.

In a double boiler (or a bowl over boiling water), whisk the egg yolks, remaining sugar and salt. Whisk until well combined and warm. Add about 1 cup of the stewed rhubarb and the lemon zest. Keep stirring until the mixture is warm again. Check for taste and add more of the pureed rhubarb until you get the desired flavor and color. Remove from heat and stir in the butter chunks.

If you are not using the curd immediately, let it cool to room temperature and then store refrigerated for up to a week.

This recipe makes more curd than you’ll need for the Rhubarb Bars.

Rhubarb Bars
Adapted from Joe Pastry’s Lemon Bars

Makes about a dozen

4 ounces butter, room temperature
1 cup (136 grams) all-purpose flour
1/4 cup sugar
a pinch of salt
about 1/2 of the Rhubarb curd recipe from above
Powdered sugar for dusting (optional)

Preheat the oven to 350.

Place the butter, flour, sugar and salt in the bowl of a mixer. Start on low speed (to keep the flour from flying everywhere), stir until it resembles course crumbs. Then increase speed slightly and continue to mix until a soft dough forms. It’s kind of magic.

Take the dough and press it into a 9″ x 5″ baking dish. Let rest at room temperature for about 15 minutes, and then bake until it is lightly golden, about 20 minutes. While the dough is baking, finish preparing the curd.

Pour the enough curd onto the crust to make a layer a little less than 1/4 inch thick, and bake for another 10 minutes, until the curd has set. Cool to room temperature. Refrigerate if desired (it’s easier to slice when chilled, but not necessary). Dust with powdered sugar before slicing if you’d like.

I was going to say that just a few days ago Helen was in town… then I realized that in fact, that was some time ago. A whole other holiday ago in fact. Well, two almost if you count today. Which I really don’t. Because I’m afraid I am a bit on the gullible side (although I didn’t fall for this) and because I really wanted to post today and these macarons are definitely no joke.

Anyway, way back in the day, when Helen was in town, I took a few hours out of the day to learn to make macaron, those lovely little french sandwich cookies. Can you believe I had never made them before? In fact, I had only eaten them once before as well (Honore makes some delightful flavors). Luckily, Helen made it all quite easy. If you do get a chance to attend one of her classes (either photography or macaron), I strongly urge you not to pass it up! She is a delight.

The thing I love most about macaron is that they are beautiful little flavor delivery vehicles. They really don’t have much flavor on their own, so you can make them into just about any flavor you can dream up. Change the color or flavor of the shell, swap out the filling and you have an endless variety. Plus they are simply so damn cute.

The only real trick when you do go to flavor the shells, Helen warned us, is to make sure not to add the flavor (or color) in liquid form, or you may wreck the meringue. For her flavorings, she often dehydrates fruit and then pulverizes it into a fine powder. But, you can buy quite a bit of dried fruit at the grocery without needing to do it yourself. I picked up some of the “Just” brands at Whole Foods… first the raspberries, which powdered like a dream and gave a fantastic color and flavor to the shells. And then, more experimentally, I grabbed a carton of Just Carrots, and got the idea of carrot cake macarons wedged into my head.

The carrot bits were a bit chewier than the raspberries (which practically turn to powder in your fingers), but a good turn in a spice grinder, and they worked just fine. Adding a bit of the powdered carrot and a few little hints of spice and the macaron shells are just the most lovely shades of peach, and smell and taste of warm cake. Fill them with a smear of maple cream cheese frosting and let them sit for a day. I know it is nearly impossible to wait… but it is so worth it!

The texture of the shell relaxes just right, and the flavors melt together to create a much better cookie. And, if you start making them now, they will be perfect for Easter morning (and a lovely addition to any easter basket!)

Do you suppose I could persuade you into believing that I am very, very early with my St. Patrick’s Day posting? I’m like one of those Guinness clocks they have in Irish pubs that roll over and start the count all over again the moment the clock ticks over from the 17th to the 18th. The truth is, I hadn’t come up with anything I really wanted to post about to mark the occasion. I was too late to cure my own brisket for corned beef, plus I’d already done that here. I thought about making soda bread, and was intrigued by one made with whole wheat flour, but I usually find the bread rather bitter, so I decided to forgo it.

It wasn’t until St. Patrick’s Day Eve (I’m making up new holidays here), when I was thinking about what muffin recipe I would make for the next morning (for a private food styling & photography lesson… a fresh batch of muffins is a great way to start shooting!) that I came across a recipe for a traditional Irish Apple Cake. Oh, the wonders of the web. Who knows if there really is such a thing as a traditional Irish Apple Cake, or if so, if this one is it (although the recipe note certainly makes it sound like it could be, and the author has quite a bit of book cred). I really didn’t care, it’s the one I found, I had all the ingredients and it looked simple enough. But I still wasn’t planning a post around it or anything.

As it turns out though, I love this recipe and really do want to share it. So, post St. Patrick’s day or not, here it is.

My first batch, I made as muffins. They were all lumpy with apple chunks and with a super moist, fluffy crumb. They were so good, I threw another batch together to take over to a friends house for dessert later that same night, and Cole claimed one to set aside for breakfast the next morning. Smart girl. I wish I had done that too. Instead, I just whipped up another batch, but this time in cake form. With a drizzle of Bailey’s Irish Cream glaze (ie, powdered sugar with Bailey’s mixed in slowly until it is just the right consistency). So maybe it’s too late for the holiday, and perhaps it isn’t even that Irish. But, it is undoubtedly delicious, so I do hope you indulge.