I read that Marlon Brando ate half his weight in ice cream every day, alone on a rowboat, during the filming of Mutiny on the Bounty. Perhaps I made that up, but it would account for his appearance in later years. Along with that ice cream, I imagine he ate another fourth of his weight in this rhubarb compote. It is quite addictive.
In this glitzy, high-fashion circus, I was delighted to find some homey, unpretentious rhubarb at the Cannes covered market. Because it is such an unglamorous ingredient, I couldn’t resist serving it at a snobby event. Marlon was from the Midwest, I believe, so he would have approved.
My favorite complements to rhubarb are strawberry and vanilla, because my Ohio grandmother always combined them together in one of her best pies. I used vanilla bean ice cream and lots of perfectly ripe, intensely flavored and perfumed strawberries from the hills of Provence. I think Grandma would have chuckled that I served this setting, although I doubt she ever heard of Cannes. Now, if only I had her recipe for Possum Pie…
To make about 3 cups/750 ml compote
1 1/2 pounds/750 g thin rhubarb stalks, cleaned and trimmed
1 cup/200 g granulated sugar, more if needed
1/2 cup/125 ml cranberry or orange juice
3 tablespoons/45 g unsalted butter
Cut the rhubarb stalks crossways into 1/2 inch/1 cm slices. Put them into a heavy-based saucepan with the sugar and cranberry juice. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat and simmer covered until the rhubarb is almost soft, about 10 minutes. It may cook faster, so check that it is not falling apart too much. Uncover, increase heat to high and cook, stirring, until the liquid is mostly evaporated. If the rhubarb starts to turn into a puree, you can strain out the chunks and cook the syrup to reduce on its own.
Remove the pan from the heat, pour into a bowl, and stir in the butter with a wooden spoon. Check for sweetness, and add a little more sugar, or honey, if you like.
The compote will keep two weeks in the refrigerator. Unless Marlon Brando is around.
By Randall