I’ve been raving about how rhubarb is my new favorite pie. But I don’t think it’s the bittersweet vegetable I love so much. It’s the love. Period. It’s the fact that my friends and neighbors have it growing wild in their gardens. They call me with such enthusiasm upon its arrival, excited about the red stalks shooting out of the ground after such a long and dark winter. They chirp like little robins in spring about how they can pick it for me to make pie. Then the picking process becomes an event in itself. Like the grief-soothing evening spent with Lyndsay and Andreas and their new baby. Like the delivery from my neighbor Sylvia who just brought over her third crop to share with me.
The pictures tell the story. Sylvia got a very warm greeting from Jack, then Daisy joined in. Sylvia felt so welcomed. There on my front steps I watched their love fest with a very big smile and felt a taste of happiness lift my spirits. All this heart-warming interaction because of an odd, stringy, root-like vegetable? No wonder I love rhubarb so much. As long as friends keep growing it I’ll keep making them pies. Love Pies.
