The inspiration for this tart came from one of those nights. You know, the ones where there's only a weird mishmash of ingredients in the house and you don't feel like running to the store. On those nights, when I have eggs in the house, I usually just cook them, serve with gluten-free bread and a salad and call it dinner. The other night, since I had a little time, I decided to bake a savory spinach and onion tart instead of making my standby (read: boring) egg dinner . . .
Rhubarb and I got off to a rocky start. One day, as my mother began to make a strawberry rhubarb pie, I snuck a slice of rhubarb from her prep bowl. My ten-year-old self expected fruity sweetness, not the puckery sourness that greeted me. Until then, the only other culinary betrayal of this magnitude I'd experienced was the time I grabbed a piece of unsweetened chocolate from the cabinet. In both cases, I could not understand why in the world someone would bake with such awful-tasting ingredients.
Now, of course, I know better. And each spring I look forward to the arrival of rhubarb at the market.
My recent attempts at dining out didn't go so well. So I reached out to the National Foundation for Celiac Awareness to see what they're doing to train restaurants on how to serve gluten-free meals. The answers might surprise you! (In a good way!) . . . keep reading
I'll admit it, occasionally I suffer from a bit of culinary stubbornness. Take these flourless peanut butter cookies, for example. For years people told me that I needed to try them. But the simple combination of peanut butter, sugar, an egg, and baking soda didn't sound good to me. It sounded like a potential hot mess. . . .