In Which I Make a Slice, and Learn to Spell Rhubarb

Yay freshly grown / uprooted rhubarb! 

There is something inherently comforting in having your cooking decisions made for you. I know, I know, the entirety of this blog so far has been Beetle Decision Headquarters but what I mean is, if one is thinking "hmm what shall I make this afternoon that I haven't made before" and then one's mother comes home with a massive bag of rhubarb and says "look what someone gave me from her garden at work" then one is, in some deep cranial recess, slightly relieved. Then at least one is able to say "ok what shall I make with RHUBARB today" and obviously that narrows it down immensely, and frees up your mind for other (perhaps more important) decisions. 

My decision to make a Rhubarb Crumble Slice came about because of the following factors:

1. On Tuesday is was the bday of a friend of Mum's and I wanted to make him something. But he doesn't like Hazelnuts, so obviously the previously made Honey/Amaranth cookies were not going to cut it. 
2. The above rhubarb conversation.
3. I was once again flipping, drooling, through the seventeen million back issues of Donna Hay magazine that I own (For serious, since Gourmet closed (DAMN YOU CONDE NAST), it is the best. cooking. magazine. ever. I would subscribe but it's Australian and obviously that means it costs a preposterous amount of money so I just buy it at newsstands every two months and pore over it obsessively.) and came upon the feature on "slices" and they had one for rhubarb and . . . you do the math. 
4. As a non Aussie, I find the word "slice" classy. I like the idea of making "a slice." It makes me feel mature and organised. 
5. I figured that maybe if I did an entire post on Rhubarb and used the word Rhubarb as much as possible in it, then maybe I could train myself to spell the word Rhubarb correctly. Rhubarb. 

I could probably spend about 18 paragraphs extolling the virtues of Donna Hay. [here's where I link to it] The photographs are some of the most beautiful things I've ever seen, the recipes are uniformly delicious, because it's Australian you get winter recipes in summer and summer recipes in winter, and it's refreshing to think about lemon custard in the depths of snow and 4pm sunsets. Also because it's Australian, you get some fantastic seafood recipes, and because of the Asian culinary influences, lots of ginger and noodle soups and stuff you wouldn't normally get from, say, Real Simple. Plus, no offense, England, but the Aussies have you beat in the savoury pie department. BEAT. 

Also, totally superficially, I like to pretend when I'm flipping through "Beach bbq" spreads that I, too, am an architect in Sydney out for the weekend, laughingly grilling corn cobs on an open flame as my gorgeous philanthropic banker husband unpacks homemade hamburger buns from a vintage cooler and my awesome and beautiful friends approach carrying freshly caught trout and a $500 hand-loomed sheep's wool blanket to sit on and watch the stars come out. 

BUT I DIGRESS. YET AGAIN. 

I've been wanting to crack the Slice spread for a long time, and since the rhubarb was just SITTING in the fridge calling to me, and since there were no hazelnuts in it, and since I suck at spelling, it really seemed like the fates had rolled the dice on this one. 

Beetle Note: I have a bestie who is Australian, and I know that as she is reading this (hello, E!) she is laughing her head off and probably texting to say MY PEOPLE ARE TAKING OVER THE WORLD. Which, gotta say, truth. (Just ask my boyfriend, Chris Hemsworth.) 

See? TRUTH. 

Also, Happy Birthday Vince! Hope you enjoy. (I put Flower Fairy birthday stickers on your slice so you'd know it was yours.) 

Blanket Beetle Note: Original recipe is just a Rhubarb Crumble Slice. The Warrior Beetle version is Rhubarb Raspberry Crumble Slice. If you don't like Raspberry, a) seek medical attention, and b) leave it out.

RHUBARB AND RASPBERRY CRUMBLE SLICE
Taken and converted from Donna Hay magazine, issue 51, June/July 2010

INGREDIENTS

• 1 stick butter, melted 
• 1/3 cup caster sugar 
• 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, sifted 
• 1/2 tsp baking powder, sifted 
• 1 egg, lightly beaten

• 1 bunch rhubarb, trimmed and chopped 
• 1 cup raspberry jam
• 3/4 cup caster sugar, extra 
• 1 tsp vanilla extract 

• 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, sifted 
• 1/3 cup caster sugar 
• 10 tbs cold butter, chopped

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Place butter, sugar, flour, baking powder, and egg in a bowl and mix to combine. Press into the base of a lightly greased baking tin (I used a non-stick brownie pan that was 9 x 12 inches) and bake for 20 - 25 minutes until golden and firm. 

*I used a spatula to press the base in. Seemed to work. 

Whilst the base is cooking, coarsely chop the rhubarb and combine with jam, sugar, and vanilla in a bowl. Set aside. 

I just love the way the sugar falls through the rhubarb cracks when you pour it in.
That's the only reason for this picture right now.

Rhubarb contains a surprising amount of liquid, incidentally,
so there is no issue of the sugar evenly coating the pieces.

To make the crumble topping, combine flour, sugar and butter, using your fingertips to rub the butter into the flour until it resembles coarse breadcrumbs. 

Spoon the rhubarb mixture onto the cooked base, then spoon the crumble topping over that. Bake in the same oven (still at 350) for 35 - 40 minutes until the top is starting to brown.

Spooned over before spreading in a casual way to maintain all-important crumbly texture.

And all browned and golden and crunchy-baked-jammy on the edges.

BEETLE NOTES

When you think about crumble slices, there's absolutely no way they can be bad. Especially with this recipe, it really is just a sandwich where gooey warm fruit is held together by two slices of "bread" that are really just butter and sugar and flour. This is exemplified by the conversation in our kitchen last night as I was cutting a slice (of the SLICE. Yesssss) for Mum. She was all what's the base? and I was all butter and sugar and flour and then she was all what's the topping? and I was all butter and sugar and flour and THEN she was all give it to me now. 

The addition of raspberry jam is a Beetle thing. Maybe I just like adding jam to things? I don't know. I certainly do love me some jam. But when I spooned the rhubarb mixture onto the crust, it looked . . . anemic. I didn't look substantial enough to produce a perfect squishy bite, you know? Like it needed to be thicker and yummier. But I was out of rhubarb [makes Munch-esque scream face].

See what I mean? You can totally see the crust through the filling. Which just seemed inherently wrong. 

So, obviously, jam to the rescue. 

I just feel like it makes everything better. And certainly in this instance squishier and gooier and more delicious.

Once I mixed that in, it became clear that I had made the right decision. I think part of it was that the recipe called for a 20cm x 30cm baking tin. Which (after I had googled cm to inch conversions thank you so much, Ronald Reagan, for my lack of metric knowledge, no really I LIKE being stupid) revealed itself to be 8 x 11 inches. So in all probability if I had had a smaller pan this "filling thinness" wouldn't have been an issue. 

But THEN, dear reader, BUT THEN, I wouldn't have added jam. And THEN I would never have made a jam crumble slice. And THEN . . . who knows? Maybe the world was just saved from apocalyptic alien invasion in 2145 because of the occurrence of a single slice of Rhubarb Raspberry Crumble. That's probably not the case, but stranger things have happened. 

The only versions of this recipe I could find online were different from the one in the magazine. The ones online included coconut (Which. Ew. Despise. Also this so does not need coconut.) and also switched out the egg in favour of milk. I'm sure it tastes fine, if you like that sort of thing. I prefer the print version, natch. 

Honestly. Who needs coconut when there is RASPBERRY JAM? 

For my first attempt at slices, I am rather impressed that it a)doesn't cause spontaneous vomiting and crying and b)actually remains in slice form. I have a knack for making things that look beautiful in the baking dish, but which collapse/muddle/disintegrate completely when removed. But THIS, dear reader, THIS, is still, without question, a slice. 

1. Cut nervously. 2. Cross Fingers. 3. Insert spatula with eyes closed and pray to the Gods.

4. DO BEETLE VICTORY DANCE 

It must be said that Mum's response to last night's "I made it for Vince's Birthday" elicited (through a mouthful of it) a resounding and instantaneous: 

Like HELL you did. 

This one even passed the "I bet this would be good for breakfast" test, which, as you know, is the equivalent of Pulitzer, Oscar, and Nobel rolled into one. Mum helpfully tested it from the other side, just to make sure that the entire thing was good and not just that one piece. (Always a team player, is my Mum.) And it's, ahem, beetling it's way to my Lovely Librarians right now. 

And get ready, dear reader, for a busy weekend. It's Midsummer on Friday (HUGE holiday in Finland), and MUM'S BIRTHDAY ON SUNDAY so you know what that means. Pancakes, black bread, lots of fish, potatoes, flower crowns, and a pavlova. I just want to prepare you all. If I emerge on Sunday, there will be a glorious write up. If I manage to post pictures before then, so much the better. And if you don't hear from me, someone send the SWAT team to the house. I'll be in the kitchen, encased, fly-in-amber-like, in whipped cream and egg whites.  

Final Beetle Note: Now we know what to do if I can't spell a word. RHUBARB RHUBARB RHUBARB RHUBARB RHUBARB.