Cooking in the West

My friend, Mike Long of Bozeman, Montana, is one of those people who is just naturally funny. If I have had a bad day, all I have to do to cheer myself up is check out Mike's Facebook page. On one such bad day recently, I scrolled across Mike's philosophies for life. With full disclosure, I had to edit out some of the responses for a family newspaper, but this is his abridged list that left me laughing and nodding in agreement:

1. If you have a crawl space, don't go down there. Nothing good can come of it.

2. A good first cure for any ailment from a hangnail to a brain tumor is a hot bath and a good night's sleep.

3. If your doctor doesn't kill you, you will live until you die.

4. Many people treat the Bible like a software agreement. They scroll to the bottom and click, "I agree," without having actually read it.

5. If you don't have anything good to say about anybody, come sit by me!

6. If you're anxious, you are living in the future. If you are depressed, you are living in the past. If you can find a way to live in the now, you can find serenity.

7. Never lie to your doctor or your lawyer.

8. People change when they make up their own minds they want to and not a minute sooner. Trying to change them before that is like teaching a pig to fly; it wastes your time, and it aggravates the pig.

9. The song "Crazy" by Willie Nelson and sung by Patsy Cline is the acme of human musical accomplishment.

10. If you've got access to a hot shower, a car that starts with some regularity, a flushing toilet, and you stew about your inability to lose weight, stop and be thankful. You are richer than 99.9% of all humans who've ever lived.

11.The real tragedy the night the Titanic went down was that there were people who had waved off the dessert cart at dinner.

12. ER nurses really don't pay attention to whether you're wearing clean underwear or not. With what they see day to day, it takes more than a world class skid mark to get their attention.

13. Go on a cruise occasionally. For $799.00 per week all-inclusive except liquor, you can't afford to stay home. If you pick the right trip, you will have sunshine all week, a cook, a dishwasher, and they make your bed in the morning. Can't beat it with a stick.

14. On occasion, stop, sit down, and write a hand-written note to somebody about something. You will be much richer for it.

15. Make yourself a rhubarb pie once in a while. It is truly impossible to be negatively emoted with a bite of rhubarb pie in your mouth. (And for the love of the Lord make the crust with lard.)

Thanks for sharing your philosophy, Mike. Of course, I had to ask him for his rhubarb pie recipe. As you might imagine, he did not text me a picture of a recipe card for rhubarb pie. Nope, he sent me something more like an essay that he entitled, "Rhubarb: the Cheap Secret to a Good Life by Mike Long".

Anyone can grow rhubarb anywhere. In fact, if you go out in the hills of Montana, miles from anything, you can still discover old homesteads, not from any sort of remnants of old buildings that are long gone, but rather from the rhubarb and hollyhocks that you can occasionally find growing. Dig up some of this rhubarb to take home and plant; it's obviously the hardy variety. Steal some hollyhock seeds while you're at it.

1. Basic Rhubarb Sauce:

2 lbs. rhubarb cut in 1/2 inch pieces.( Red is better to look at; green will taste the same.)

1/2 C. water

scant 2/3 C, sugar.

Dump all in a saucepan over medium heat and cook, stirring often for 10-15 minutes until the rhubarb is broken down. Taste. You may need more sugar if your rhubarb is extra tart or if you like it sweeter. Serve on vanilla ice cream or in a dish with heavy cream on top or on pancakes/waffles or even on a pork chop - seriously.

Variation: substitute a pound of strawberries for half of the rhubarb.

2. Pie Crust with Lard:

This is fun because you can tell your family/friends "this isn't made with love; it's made with lard" and then watch them clutch their chests as they feel their coronary arteries plugging up. Note: there are no bad foods, just bad diets. A piece of pie, made with lard, once in a while, never hurt anyone and, if it's rhubarb pie, it actually adds to one's quality of life. If you're serving a vegetarian, just tell them you made it with vegetable oil; they won't die, and you'll save yourself from listening to an unsolicited sermon.

1 1/4 C. flour

1/4 t. salt

6 T. unsalted butter, chilled, cut into small hunks or even frozen and grated

4 T. chilled leaf lard, cut up or frozen and grated. (hard to find, but better than that hydrogenated stuff in a supermarket. Or render your own

2 to 5 T. ice water.

In a food processor, briefly mix flour and salt, add butter and lard and pulse until the mixture turns into peanut-sized pieces (or do this by hand with two knives or a pastry cutter. Life is sometimes too short to wash a food processor.)

Add the ice water, 1 T at a time and mix until it's moist enough to hold together. Herein lies the art of pastry, knowing when to quit adding water. It's much easier to put more in than it is to take some out. Make a ball, wrap in plastic, flatten down some and refrigerate 3-4 hours before rolling out. Makes 1 crust. Double for a 2-crust pie.

3. Basic, Simple, Rhubarb pie. (you can gild this lily if you want but there's not much reason to)

5 C. rhubarb cut in 1/2 inch pieces

1 1/4 C. sugar

5 T flour

1/4 t cinnamon

1-2 T butter.

Heat oven to 425 degrees. Throw a crust into a pie pan. Put the rhubarb in a big bowl, and put the sugar, flour and cinnamon in a small bowl. Mix the latter. Then sprinkle the bottom crust with some of the sugar mixture (it will help the crust to not get soggy - you don't want a soggy bottom if you can avoid it). Put rest of sugar mixture into the rhubarb, stir well and throw this into the pan. Put small hunks of butter here and there and everywhere. Put 2nd crust on top, seal the edges, cut some vents in the top and bake for 15 minutes. Turn oven to 350 and continue to bake for 25-30 minutes more (until the pie is nicely browned and there's juice bubbling from the vents).

4. Rhubarb Crisp

(If, after you die, you're handed a dish of this with cream on it, you will know - definitively - that you are among the elect.)

3 lbs rhubarb

1/4 C. sugar

1 T. lemon or orange juice

1 t. lemon or orange zest (note - when zesting citrus, you want the colored part only, the white stuff is bitter)

6 T cold butter cut up.

3/4 C. brown sugar

1/2 C, flour

1/2 t. cinnamon

pinch of salt

1/2 C rolled oats (raw, not quick cooking)

1/2 C. pecans or walnuts.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Mix rhubarb, sugar, juice, and zest and put into a buttered square baking dish. Mix butter, brown sugar, flour, cinnamon, and salt in a food processor until it resembles peanuts. Or, mix in a bowl with a forks or pasty cutter. Add oats and nuts and mix just to combine. Put the topping on top of the rhubarb and bake for 45-50 minutes. You'll know when it's done 'cause it'll just look right.

5. Chicken with Rhubarb. (something different worth trying that isn't a rhubarb dessert)

whole chicken cut up or equivalent in whatever kind of chicken parts you want or that your fussy family will eat.

salt

black pepper.

dried thyme

olive oil

a bunch of little green onions. Slice the white parts and a good part of the green.

2 garlic cloves, minced

1/2 C. white wine.

3 C. chopped rhubarb

honey

2 T. unsalted butter, cut into small hunks.

Salt and pepper chicken pieces. Heat oil in a Dutch oven or deep skillet on medium high. Brown chicken on both sides, transfer to a plate. Reduce heat to medium, soften the onions, add garlic and a t. of thyme and cook for a minute. Add into wine, scrape the bottom of pan; add rhubarb and a T. of honey or so, some salt and pepper. Put chicken back in on top of rhubarb and simmer for 20 minutes more. Put chicken on a platter, stir the butter into the rhubarb. Taste and add more honey, salt and/or pepper. Throw the sauce over the chicken and serve.