COOKING IN: Even throughout the grimmest of months - February in my book - there are seasonal ingredients to enjoy, such as the first flush of imported blood oranges, writes Hugo Arnold
I am able to overlook the food miles involved for their sweet, tangy juice and amazing colour. For those lucky enough to be able to get it, sea kale is almost better than asparagus, and along with these rare treats, there is the common, humble rhubarb. But what a joy those pink stems bring. From now on, the dusky pink colour get stronger, and so too the flavour.
As a child, I would watch these umbrellas of plants take up so much space in my parents' garden, I couldn't help questioning the point of them. Then the crumble would arrive, followed by tarts, and then as the days got longer, rhubarb fool. Some pair rhubarb with mackerel, or turn it into a chutney. I remain unconvinced. It's the colour that somehow doesn't seem to work. Too sludgy, where you need vibrancy. There is not the same problem with a tall glass of rhubarb fool, the top scattered with chopped nuts, or that natural partner, ginger.
Rhubarb gently stewed for breakfast and served up with some proper yoghurt is a welcome wake-up call. Or for something a little more elaborate and suitable both to start the day or finish a meal, make a tart fine.
Kiln-dried powdered rhubarb root is supposed to be good for you and has been used for many years in Chinese remedies. But I am unsure of the health benefits of poached, early season stalks. Along with the now firmly open daffodils, I am as relieved as the next person that we are hopefully through the worst of winter and looking forward to all sorts of spring delights, and brighter days.
Elderflower makes a great partner for rhubarb, and as we get into the indigenous strawberry season, a compote of gently-stewed rhubarb with some strawberries dropped in at the end of the cooking time, to wilt slightly, is one of the real early summer treats.