There is something about rawness. A stringy acid that draws your cheek inside out with a following production of saliva that will soon take care of the available carbohydrate and provide you with energy. But after a few bits of this raw rhubarb, the fresh sensation converts into an intolerable torture.
When I compose a dish I always try to analyze the main component.
- For this dish: I thought of raw rhubarb as a green apple because of the tasting similarities. Green apples and almonds are a nice flavour combination.
- To make it taste well: the sourness in the raw rhubarb had to be balanced with some sweet honey. Still, the acid seemed more fighting than caring.
- As a true accident: when I was going to eat sour milk and oatmeal in the late evening, tired of not finding out a taste sample to serve outside in the herb garden the following day, I ate a piece of raw rhubarb along with the sour milk. And, once again, I felt that fresh sensation – but now for an extended amount of time and without any intolerable torture.
I mixed raw rhubarb with almonds, honey, sour milk and a bit of salt until it became a smooth paste with a dynamic flavour profile. All ingredients should appear, or atleast contribute. I added some roasted nuttiness into the dish. There is a production of roasted whole oats, that has been soaked and milled, in Värmland – really delicious – called skrädmjöl. I took skrädmjölsdrömmar (Swedish dream cookies with both skrädmjöl and wheat flour) and sprinkled it on top of the mixed rhubarb paste and served it on the best tasting lettuce I could find in the kitchen garden: rouge d’hiver.
Gastronomic vagabond 