Have you seen the piles of rhubarb stalks at the Market? And maybe you didn’t even touch those because you already have a surplus coming from the garden? A perennial in the same family as sorrel and buckwheat, rhubarb is very easy to grow. Plant it once, and it will come back year after year, with little maintenance required.
What to do with all that rhubarb is another matter altogether. Unlike say, blueberries or raspberries, rhubarb requires a little bit of processing in order to become palatable (unless you’re one of those people who can bite into a lemon quarter without grimacing). If you love baking, like my grandfather and late grandmother, then it’s no problem. From crisps and crumbles to pies and jams, there is a wealth of deliciousness to be served alongside that creamy vanilla bean ice cream. However, if baking makes you groan (yes, I said groan), then using up those Christmas-coloured stalks becomes much more an endeavour of creativity than one of old-time tradition.
Rhubarb as dessert isn’t as old as you might imagine. The plant (Rheum rhabarbarum), which originated in the cool climates of Mongolia and Siberia, was prized by the Chinese for the medicinal properties of its roots, which were dried and traded as far away as Greece and Rome in the first century AD. The English weren’t familiar with the plant until the 16th century, and the idea of eating the stem of the plant likely didn’t occur until much later, perhaps thanks to the plant’s resemblance to its smaller cousin, sorrel.
The first recipes for rhubarb start appearing in English cookery books in the early 19th century, just as, perhaps not coincidentally, sugar was becoming more widely available. The association between rhubarb and medicine lost its foothold, and custards, crumbles and pies were elevated to a sempiternal pedestal.
Elsewhere in the world, however, rhubarb has found uses as a vegetable (which, after all, it is). From being served with potatoes in Poland or spinach in Afghanistan, as a soup in Norway or as a stew in Iran, rhubarb is much more versatile than the Anglo-American cookbooks seem to indicate.
Today’s dish is my first attempt to transform rhubarb into dinner. I started by making a sauce — a gloopy, sweet-and-sour sauce reminiscent of Anglo-American desserts were it not for its salt content, but then used the sauce to braise browned chicken thighs and aromatics until tender and juicy. I threw in a few cinnamon sticks, inspired, perhaps, by all the Indian food I’ve been cooking recently. The dish was so good that I made it again on two occasions, making my way through a decent chunk of my rhubarb patch.
In retrospect, I may have been pushed by an unshakeable nostalgia for that sweet-and-sour sauce in which I used to dip my fried chicken nuggets. Food memories have a stubborn persistence, no matter how plebeian.
Joëlle
Serves 4-6
This delicious sweet-and-sour chicken is my new favourite way to use up the rhubarb in the garden. A great recipe for spring and summer.
Ingredients
- 6 chicken thighs
- Kosher salt
- 1 tbsp coconut oil
- 1 yellow onion, thinly sliced
- 2 cinnamon sticks
- 2 cloves garlic
- 1 tbsp ginger
- 1/2 cup bone broth
- 2 cups rhubarb, sliced 1-cm thick
- 2 tbsp honey
- 1/4 cup orange juice
- 2 tbsp shio koji or 1 tsp salt
- 2 tbsp coconut oil
Instructions
- Salt the chicken thighs at least 45 minutes prior to cooking.
- To make the rhubarb sauce, bring rhubarb, honey and orange juice to a simmer. Keep cooking until the rhubarb has softened, about 8 minutes.
- Remove from the heat and stir in coconut oil and shio koji or salt. Set aside.
- Melt the oil into a large lidded frying pan (10 or 12-inch) on medium heat.
- Add the cinnamon sticks and allow them to infuse into the oil.
- Put the onion into the pan and fry, stirring occasionally, for 8 to 10 minutes, until softened and browning at the edges.
- Add the garlic and ginger and cook, stirring, for a few more minutes.
- Put the chicken thighs into the pan, skin side down and cook until the skin is golden brown, about 5 minutes. Flip the thighs and continue to cook until the second side becomes lightly golden, about 3 minutes.
- Pour in the rhubarb sauce and the chicken stock and cook, covered, for 15 to 20 minutes.
- Remove from heat and serve.
Notes
Shio koji (塩麹) is a lacto-fermented mixture of rice koji (rice inoculated with aspergillus oryzae spore -- the basis for many well-know Japanese ferments such as miso, sake and soy sauce). It provides enzymes and probiotics while imparting the dish with a unique umami flavour. You can substitute sea salt, himalayan salt or fish sauce. To learn more about shio koji, how to make it at home, and how to use it in the kitchen, click here.
References
Davidson, Alan, et al. The Oxford Companion to Food. Oxford University Press, 2014.