Rhubarb Swirl Cake
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I took several lessons straight to heart as a young Connecticut country kid. One was that foraging for random things in the woods was a great way to get poison ivy on your hands (oh the misery). And that running around barefoot all summer in the clover covered lawn was a guarantee of many bee stings to the toes, which I now file under -- wish that was still a problem. And lastly – don’t ever, ever eat rhubarb’s toxic leaves.
My good friend Sarah, another city transplant who grew up in the fields of Connecticut’s countryside, said she also remembered foraging for rhubarb in the springtime. Once snatched up, she would dip the raw stalk briefly into the sugar bowl before each bite. (Pro tip)
Even now, I could lead you by the hand with my eyes closed to the place where the rhubarb grows. Each spring it matures in an uncultivated space on the right side of my mother’s garden, just outside the fence. There, it mingles with weeds, and grasses, and pricker bushes, waiting to be plucked and tucked into something sweet.
The rhubarb arriving every year was something I always looked forward to. The deep satisfaction of the seasons changing seemed to be important to me, even then. It’s arrival meant that the weather was getting warmer, school was almost over, summer was so close you could smell it. It meant that we were going strawberry picking so soon. However, I have no associations with actually consuming it. You see, my mother never really did anything with her rhubarb.
I wish I could tell you all that I have fond memories of strawberry rhubarb pies swirling around in my springtime memories of growing up. But in truth, it seems my mama wasn’t ever too big on pie. Which is why I’m probably not too big on pie. I have no consistent culinary memory link to it. I have one vague recollection of her making a crisp.
Rhubarb was one of the first things I picked up at the farmer’s market last year when I started going. I picked it up with only faint purpose since I had no idea what I was going to do with it. I knew it was seasonal, I knew it was fleeting and still --- those seem to be only two things I need to know to spend my entire savings account at a market stand. I ended up making this. And then I made it a few more times with the rhubarb I’d begged my mother to pick from her garden and freeze for me. A few weeks ago when I was not-so-patiently waiting for rhubarb and strawberries to show up, buried within my too full freezer I discovered a baggie of both rhubarb and strawberries from last summer --- a bonafide win. They soon found themselves stirred into a pot with some vanilla to make some more. I have new associations and now (strawberry) rhubarb compote means that spring is here.
Once I finally got my hands on some actual rhubarb, swirling some saucy fresh stuff into some cake was definitely an upgrade. Say you want those swirls even more shockingly pink, (if you couldn’t tell by my instagram feed), strawberries are here people(!!!) Use this compote recipe to swirl in instead. I, however, really liked the puckery rhubarb all by itself. I also love this rhubarb sauce’s demure shade of pink. Almost like it’s not quite calling attention to itself until it hits your tongue and it’s an explosion of pleasant tartness.
Rhubarb Swirl Cake
adapted from this recipe by Cannelle et Vanille
Yield: 1 nine inch square cake
Ingredients:
Rhubarb sauce:
2 cups diced rhubarb
½ cup raw sugar
juice of half a lemon
Cake:
3 eggs
1 cup raw sugar
1 cup full fat greek yogurt
1/2 cup melted unsalted butter
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup white rice flour
1/2 cup millet flour
2 tablespoons tapioca starch
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
powdered sugar for sprinkling (if desired)
Directions:
In a small saucepan over low to medium heat stir together the diced rhubarb, ½ cup of sugar, and the lemon juice. Stir occasionally. Keep at a simmer. It will take about 30 minutes for the rhubarb to breakdown and come to desired consistency. Once it is thick and jammy, turn off heat and allow to cool down a bit.
Heat oven to 350 degrees.
Line a 9-inch square cake pan with parchment paper.
Set aside.
In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, sugar, yogurt, melted butter, and vanilla extract.
Add in the white rice flour, millet flour, tapioca starch, baking powder and salt. Whisk again to thoroughly incorporate.
Pour into the cake pan and spread it out evenly.
Dollop four thick lines of the rhubarb compote onto the top of the batter. Using a toothpick, knife, or skewer drag through the rhubarb lines to create a swirling design throughout the top of the cake.
Bake cake for 40 to 45 minutes minutes or until it’s edges have turned golden brown and a cake tester comes out clean.
Let cake cool in pan. Using the edges of the parchment paper, lift the cake out of the pan. Dust with powdered sugar, if desired. Cut into squares.
Note: You will probably have some rhubarb compote left over. Swirl it into other things like yogurt or ice cream or oatmeal. Sometimes I just eat it with a spoon, but that’s just me.
