3 posts tagged with “rhubarb”

  • Rituals + strawberry, rhubarb, ginger shrub

    The older I get, the more impatient I seem to become.

    What happened to achieving the wisdom of not sweating the small stuff and letting whatever will be to be?

    Someone send me that memo again, please.

    Case in point: strawberry season didn’t come soon enough for me this year. While I was ecstatic to find Ontario greenhouse berries in the grocery store at the beginning of May, what I really wanted were those Niagara berries that compel me to drive across town to the farm stand that specializes in them.

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  • Peach Tree
  • Rhubarb for the lazy

    I got an email this week that will likely wind up in the best emails ever file.

    It was from a local chef asking if I was doing another purslane giveaway. He was worried he may have missed it. Only one other person has ever written asking for purslane rather than await my offer on Twitter, where, when I replied enthusiastically with unlimited offerings and regular deliveries to potential takers, I was stonewalled.

    My reply to the chef, though, was more tempered; one of good news and bad. He needn’t worry about missing purslane season. It was still far too early for there to be much of the succulent weed. Unfortunately, I’m no longer yardsharing, so I don’t have access to a plot of earth that was the most prolific producer of purslane I’d ever had the pleasure of working. Continue reading

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  • Peach Tree
  • A week on repeat and rhubarb-ginger crisp

    I channeled my inner Bill Murray last week, my days on repeat like Groundhog Day.

    It was covocation at work and having been designated the unofficial official university photographer in the last minute, I donned a Harry Potter-esque gown twice a day, grabbed my camera, sat, stood or squatted in the same location morning and afternoon, listened to the same speeches until I could nearly recite them and shot the same photos.

    For five days.

    There were eight ceremonies. Hundreds of photos. And then the words I had to write to go with them.

    The days were long. They were surprisingly tiring, too. And emotional.
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