Rain on the Rhubarb

My dad grew up with five brothers and one sister. All things considered, this is a relatively average-sized family. But still, imagine feeding all of those growing farm boys.

From what grandma has said, dinner alone took two fried chickens (plus a hamburger or a couple of franks for the oldest boy, who's still not a fan of poultry), several pounds of potatoes and two pies to end. Besides dinner, though, there was also breakfast, two lunches (morning and afternoon), and supper, so it's little wonder that the kitchen, and more specifically, the Formica-topped table (with a couple generation's worth of chewing gum now cemented underneath) is still the place they all return to when they need tending.

Growing up, I sat at that table occupied with old puzzles and homemade play dough. I ate countless meals sitting in my dad's old place on the long end against the wall, and drank my share of pop, which grandpa doled out a half can at a time. During the summers I was home from college, I'd walk the two miles to the house, sit down for a glass of water and a visit, and unless grandpa insisted on driving me, walk the two miles back home. From that vantage point, I had a lot of opportunities to watch my grandma manage the various personalities in her family to circumvent conflict.

But when reasoning failed, she'd simply resort to this: Do you think the rain will hurt the rhubarb?

In other words, change the subject now or get out.

No one knows where she came up with it, but that hasn't stopped us from adopting it (along with grandpa's rather infamous portmanteau mental "flustration," which he used repeatedly during an interview with a local news station in the late 80s/early 90s). And I can't have rhubarb without thinking of my grandma.

Rhubarb Jam

5 cups rhubarb, chopped
4 cups sugar
4 cups sliced strawberries, blueberries or chopped cherries (or you can use a pie mix)
1 small box (6 oz) Jello in the same flavor

Combine the rhubarb and the sugar in a large saucepan and set aside until the rhubarb juices. Cook the rhubarb mixture over medium heat until it comes to a boil. Boil 15 minutes or until the rhubarb is tender. Add the fruit/pie mix and boil for 10 minutes more. Turn off the heat and stir in the Jello. Once the jam is cool, it's ready to be packaged. You can put it in jars and then refrigerate, but since it freezes well, I just put mine in freezer-safe Gladware and store it that way.

My mom and I made all three variations of this jam when I was home for a visit a few weeks ago. My personal favorite is the blueberry-rhubarb -- it's good on everything from ice cream to oatmeal, and especially fresh-baked bread.

For the record, I can't imagine that rain would ever hurt the rhubarb. It's hardy, being part of the buckwheat family and all -- and maybe that's the point.