This afternoon I sat outside with a book (Julia Gregson’s Jasmine Nights – a lovely read) for barely half an hour while the temperature erratically cycled between scorching and gloomy. Bored with the pages getting constantly flicked back and forth by a wind irritable as a grouchy toddler, I came inside, slapped some cream on my skin (Sunburn so quick? How?) and glanced out to see that my previously-nearly-dry washing was getting absolutely hammered by the rain. Next thing I knew it sounded like all the neighbours were practising the kettle drums so I turned my attention to a Sunday afternoon pudding.
This rhubarb fool is rather like today’s weather. Delightfully pink with cream whipped into fluffy soft clouds it promises, teasingly, the delicate taste of other summer fare, of elderflowers, strawberries, rose petals and cavorting fairies.* Then, BAM! That rhubarb wallops you round the face with all the subtlety of a cricket bat. Even now, the memory, a mere hour old memory at that, makes me do what I call a whisky- face. A bit like a lemon-face but warmer, more balanced. Conjure the tastes in your mouth one at a time and you’ll see what I mean.
Anyway, cricket bats aside, it was a sublime pudding so I think you should try it, regardless of the weather wherever you are. You can make it sweeter if you like. I used granulated stevia because I’m avoiding sugar at the moment and also trying to retrain my sweet tooth, but taste the rhubarb once it’s cooked and judge for yourself what balance of sweet to tart you want.
Chop about 400g rhubarb and simmer until soft with the equivalent of four tablespoons sugar and a pinch of powdered vanilla. While the rhubarb cools whip 300ml double cream, fold in 100g plain yoghurt and then stir in the rhubarb. Stick it in the fridge for at least an hour and wait for the thunderstorms…
*confession – I’ve never actually tried a cavorting fairy, they may not be sweet at all. Consult with your doctor before adding fairies, cavorting or otherwise, to your diet.