I’m not a pink kind of girl. I don’t wear pink*, I’m not really drawn to pink, and I can’t (scanning the room now) name a single pink item in my home. But there’s a certain time of year when an unexplainable, unashamed pink fever sets in: the forced rhubarb season. Ha, you thought it was going to be Valentines.
* okay I pushed the boat out and actually recently bought some pink shoes which I love.
Every year, the arrival of these slender, pink-blushed stalks on the supermarket shelf feels like a small celebration, heralding the tentative (albeit forced) beginnings of spring. No matter what it is that has brought me to that supermarket, no matter how impractical the purchase, the rhubarb finds its way into my basket: too brief and golden an opportunity to be missed. There’s also something quite fun about weaving through rush hour traffic with a pink plant sprouting from my backpack.
Usually it will end up in a tangy breakfast compote, heaped onto porridge or granola, but occasionally - when time permits - it becomes the centrepiece of tentative pudding experimentation. The latest such exploration was led by my friend Liv, who I’m hosting a charity supper club with (she makes up half of the brilliant Mûr London) to celebrate International Women’s Day next month. She brought her professional wisdom and adapted recipe from Spring to my little kitchen, and we whisked up a small army of delicious, wobbly, ruby-topped rhubarb panna cottas.
To make their success even more sweet, in creating the pink jelly I was left with the strained remains of a perfect rhubarb compote, which I am enjoying on my porridge today.
If you’d like to try these sweet babies for yourself, we’re going to be serving them (alongside a biscuit/tuille of some description) as dessert at our IWD event on the 6th March. And now, in a tantalising change of topic, I’m sharing the recipe for my Jerusalem Artichoke and Truffle Risotto, as I’m feeling a little sorry for this more overlooked veg, and thought it was quite delicious. If you want to read more about this lovely, knobbly tubar, I’m sharing a past substack here.
Have a lovely week and hopefully see some of you on the 6th March!
Jerusalem Artichoke and Truffle Risotto
serves 4
1 large white onion, finely chopped
90g butter
4 garlic cloves, minced
300g Arborio rice
900ml vegetable stock, kept warm
50g Parmesan, finely grated
Freshly ground black pepper
For the roasted Jerusalem artichoke purée:
700g Jerusalem artichokes, peeled and cut into chunks
3 sprigs thyme
Extra virgin olive oil (for roasting)
100ml double cream
Squeeze of lemon juice
½ tbsp extra virgin olive oil
Drizzle of truffle oil
Salt, to taste
Preheat the oven to 200°C (180°C fan). Toss the Jerusalem artichokes with a drizzle of EVOO, thyme, and a pinch of salt. Spread them on a baking tray and roast for 30–35 minutes, turning halfway, until golden and tender.
Transfer the roasted artichokes to a blender or food processor. Add the double cream, lemon juice, ½ tbsp EVOO, and a drizzle of truffle oil. Blend until smooth, seasoning to taste. Set aside.
In a large pan over medium heat, melt 50g of the butter. Add the onion and sauté for 7-8 minutes, until soft and translucent. Stir in the garlic and cook for another minute. Add the Arborio rice, stirring to coat in the butter. Toast for 2 minutes, until slightly translucent.
Start adding the warm vegetable stock, one ladle at a time, stirring frequently. Let the rice absorb most of the liquid before adding more. Repeat for 15–18 minutes, until the rice is al dente and creamy.
Stir the Jerusalem artichoke purée into the risotto and cook for 2 more minutes, adjusting seasoning if needed. Remove from the heat and stir in the remaining 40g butter and Parmesan, mixing to emulsify.
Spoon the risotto onto plates, finishing with a final drizzle of truffle oil, a generous crack of black pepper, and extra Parmesan if desired.
Thank you so much for reading! If you liked the recipe (or the ramblings) I’d love to hear your feedback 💛 and please do share the love using the link below.