Dear Curiosity Journal,
Although the rhubarb is still on the small side, my craving for a crisp sent me to the garden in the rain. Once I realized we had all of the other ingredients, I started pulling stubby stalks from the patch and lopping the leaves into the grass with a harvest knife. The shoots were short enough to stick in my jacket pocket and I filled them to the max. This act brought up one of my first childhood memories with rhubarb. Angel Maule and I would take cups of sugar from the kitchen and carry them around for dipping the sour stems. When I chop and mix the first layer of the dessert, I taste the combination (mostly rhubarb and sugar) and my memory pulls me back to that simple space of a sweet treat in the garden, a childhood kinship, and endless days exploring on the land. It’s curious how flavors keep these memories alive, how we can call them to the present moment with the right ingredients. What a gift of sensory connection we embody.