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Created by Chef Thomas
Forced rhubarb stewed with orange and vanilla, folded through cold whipped cream in pink and white ribbons. The first proper colour of the new year, spooned into a glass.
Forced rhubarb is one of the best things about the long tail of winter. It turns up at the market in January, still tender and almost luminous, grown by candlelight in dark sheds in Yorkshire and pulled before it's ever seen the sun. Long pink stems the colour of a child's painting. You can smell it from the other side of the stall.
A fool is what you make with it when you want dessert without much in the way of effort. You stew the rhubarb gently with sugar and a strip of orange peel, let it slump into a vivid pink puree, and fold it through cold whipped cream. That's the whole thing. The cream softens the sharpness, the rhubarb cuts the richness, and the two of them together taste like nothing else in the British calendar. Pink and white, marbled in a glass.
The trick, if there is one, is not to overmix. You want distinct ribbons of fruit running through the cream, not a uniform pink mousse. Fold twice, maybe three times, then stop. A fool that's been stirred into submission has lost the plot. This is a dessert that should look, in the glass, like it couldn't quite decide what it wanted to be.
I wrote it down in the notebook the first time I made it with proper forced rhubarb: "February. Cold outside. Pink in a glass. Enough." Still true.
Quantity
500g
trimmed and cut into 3cm lengths
Quantity
100g
plus more to taste
Quantity
1 strip
Quantity
1
split lengthways, or 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Quantity
300ml
well chilled
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
a small splash
Quantity
to serve
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| forced Yorkshire rhubarbtrimmed and cut into 3cm lengths | 500g |
| golden caster sugarplus more to taste | 100g |
| unwaxed orange peel | 1 strip |
| vanilla podsplit lengthways, or 1 teaspoon vanilla extract | 1 |
| double creamwell chilled | 300ml |
| icing sugar | 2 tablespoons |
| ginger wine or elderflower cordial (optional) | a small splash |
| shortbread or almond biscuits (optional) | to serve |
Put the rhubarb in a wide saucepan with the caster sugar, the strip of orange peel, and the split vanilla pod with its seeds scraped in. No water. The rhubarb has plenty of its own. Set it over a low heat and put the lid on. Let it sit there, barely bubbling, for eight to ten minutes. Give the pan a gentle shake now and then rather than stirring, which breaks the pieces up. You want the rhubarb to slump and soften but still hold some shape, and the juice to come out a saturated, almost unreasonable pink.
Take the pan off the heat and let the rhubarb cool in its own juice. Fish out the orange peel and the vanilla pod. Tip the fruit into a sieve set over a bowl so the juice drains away from the pulp. Keep both. Taste the fruit. If it needs more sugar, stir a little in now while it's still warm enough to dissolve. Taste the juice too. It should be sharp and fragrant and dangerously drinkable.
Pour the drained rhubarb juice back into the pan and simmer it over a medium heat until it has thickened to a loose syrup. Three or four minutes. It should coat the back of a spoon and taste more concentrated than before. Set it aside to cool completely. This is the ribbon of colour that will thread through the cream.
Pour the chilled cream into a wide bowl with the icing sugar and the splash of ginger wine or elderflower, if using. Whip, by hand if you have the patience, until it holds soft floppy peaks. Not stiff. You're looking for something that falls from the whisk in slow folds, not something that stands up in points. Stiff cream in a fool is a small tragedy.
Fold about two thirds of the stewed rhubarb through the cream in long, lazy strokes. You're not mixing. You're marbling. Stop while there are still distinct streaks of white and pink, the kind that make you want to reach for a spoon straight away. Divide between four glasses or small bowls. Top each with the remaining rhubarb and a drizzle of the reduced syrup. A shortbread on the side, if you've got one. Eat straight away, or let them sit in the fridge for half an hour to firm up. Either is right.
1 serving (about 230g)
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