A weekend of gardening, gratitude, and rhubarb curd.

Early Friday morning, I shut off my phone, put on my nastiest pair of denim overalls, laced up my tattered tennis shoes, threw on an Elliott Homestead ball cap, grabbed an espresso, and headed out to the market garden.

Don’t let the name fool you. I certainly don’t market anything I grow in the market garden. The name simply refers to the market style rows of vegetables that I happily grow on a small plot of land behind our shop. This is my happy place. My hang out. My place of HARD work and WONDERFUL rest.

I was so desperate to be with the land and clear my head that I didn’t put on any music. There was no sound besides distant tractors and the chatter of children. The robins, garden snakes, and croaking frogs were all I needed for company.

I didn’t come off the land for two days. Instead, I labored over the soil, sinking fingertips into the dirt and thanking God for a little piece of land to cultivate.

Here’s a few beautiful moments that I hope capture the joy I felt:

But before I had the opportunity to clear my schedule and spend time in the garden, I decided to be thankful anyway.

As I filmed earlier this week, there was a bucket of compost strewn around my front porch that the rogue ducks had gotten into. Bits of bread, old banana peels, and strawberry tops littered my doorway. The market garden sat with the skeletons of last year's tomatoes and okra still very much intact. There are weeds and crabgrass from here to kingdom come and frankly, before I filmed, I felt like giving up. But instead, I forced myself (and believe me, in the moment it was forced!) to see all of the many gifts there are around to be thankful for: from homeschool messes to irrigation.

So come around with the farm with me for a few minutes as I count my blessings, remind myself that it's all going as it should, and make a delicious and easy rhubarb curd with the first harvest from the spring garden.

This recipe was originally published in June 2019 as a Cooking Community Recipe. I would love for you to consider becoming a member of the Cooking Community and joining along for from scratch, farm inspired recipes and instructional cooking videos. You can learn more about the Cooking Community right here.

Here’s to hoping you got some time in the garden, and in the kitchen, as well. What’s the saying? It’s cheaper than therapy… and you get tomatoes! (Or in our case, rhubarb.)

Enjoy!

Rhubarb Curd

I’m keen on desserts that have a bit of tang to them. Sweetened only with honey, this is a gentle way to enjoy a truly unique harvest. If you don’t have a high powered blender, a food processor will work, but the result will be not nearly as smooth and a bit more difficult to work through the strainer. The color of the rhubarb will fade a bit with cooking, but pay no mind. If you only have access to green rhubarb, the resulting color will be a light green instead of a light pink – it’s delicious either way. 

5 large rhubarb stalks, cut into 1” pieces

3 eggs

2 tablespoons all-purpose einkorn flour

¾ cup honey

¾ cup butter

Whipped cream, for serving

1. In a high-powered blender, combine the rhubarb, eggs, flour, and honey. Blend for 3-4 minutes on high speed until it is smooth, stirring if needed to ensure no large pieces of stalks remain. 

2. Melt the butter in a saucepan over medium heat. Place a fine mesh strainer over the saucepan and pour half of the contents of the blender into the strainer. Use a wooden spoon to stir the rhubarb mixture, squishing out as much of the liquid as possible. When no more can be smashed through the strainer, dump out the strainer, and pour in the second half of the blender contents. Repeat until no more liquid can be extracted from the mixture. 

3. Use a whisk to heat the mixture slowly, whisking constantly. When the curd is the thickness of pudding, which should take about three minutes, turn off the heat. Pour the curd into serving dishes and let chill for a few hours before topping with a dollop of fresh whipped cream.

Cheers,

Shaye