Rhubarb. There doesn't seem to be any middle ground with this vegetable. Fruit. Whatever. Those who love it really love it. Those who hate it really hate it.
Anyway, it's rhubarb season (in case you didn't know). And rhubarb season only means one thing for me: pie. Rhubarb pie. Not rhubarb/strawberry pie. Not even rhubarb cream pie. Just simple, old fashioned rhubarb pie. The kind grandma used to make.
4 cups of rhubarb (hand picked from your own backyard or borrowed from a friend's yard). 1 cup of sugar. 1/4 cup of flour. Toss is all up, put it in a pie crust, top it off with a butter/flour/cinnamon mixture, throw it in the oven and in 45 minutes you have instant memories--transported back to a simpler time when people actually picked things to eat out of their own yards, where pies were commonplace at the dinner table (before calories and points were calculated on an hourly basis), when neighbors would drop by just to say 'hi'--no agenda--and we had time to sit down and have a cup of coffee with those we love and care about. No rushing. No cell phones. No e-mail. We shared our highs and lows daily, in person. What a great idea.
Share your highs and lows with someone you care about today. Ask them about theirs, too. It would only take about fifteen minutes and would greatly improve your relationship. If you can do it over a piece of rhubarb pie, all the better.

