Rhubarb Cream Pie Better Homes And Gardens

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This Rhubarb Custard Pie recipe is very special to me from Grandma’s recipe box. With egg yolks and skin filled shrimp, you’ll love this delicious spring and summer treat!

Rhubarb Cream Pie Better Homes And Gardens

I never get tired of ruby’s recipes. Especially happy memories are included. This Rhubarb Custard Pie recipe comes from my grandmother Renelt, and my dad’s favorite ruby.

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Because it packs a punch, this ruby ​​pie isn’t as overpowering as many ruby ​​dessert recipes. The preservative mixture is easy to make, easy to cut and easy to prepare for serving.

This ruby’creserve pie is a good, old-fashioned, and delicious way to enjoy ruby. I hope you enjoyed my Grandma’s Pie!

I shared this recipe here in 2010, two months after I started this blog. Since my beloved grandmother Renelt passed away this spring, I wanted to update this post in her honor.

When my mom and dad were with us after the surgery last month, I asked my mom if she could bake a pie so I could take a picture of it. I don’t have the energy to do it in one day! It is true that my mother agreed. And we had a great time together, making her mother’s recipe and taking pictures.

Rhubarb Custard Pie (rhubarb Flan)

And of course, let’s not talk about the top of the pie. Mom was a master pie maker, and she always relied on Betty Crocker’s short crust recipe. It’s easy to make, easy to use, and closes well. I won’t talk about pie crust here, but feel free to use this recipe or your favorite pie crust or frosting.

I get this question with many recipes. And although I prefer fresh ruby ​​for the best texture, I think this pie works best with frozen ruby.

I plan to make most of my recipes in the middle of summer to take advantage of the easy sticks. My mother always says she likes to cook with my wild plants because the stems are not very big. I save enough money for winter steamed recipes by cutting them up and putting them in freezer safe containers or bags.

I like to make a pie when I know all of it – or most of it – will be eaten the day it’s made. It’s the best, the easiest of the times!

Rhubarb Custard Pie With Lattice Crust

Serving Size: Calories: 364 Total Fat: 15g Saturated Fat: 6g Trans Fat: 0g Unsaturated Fat: 7g Cholesterol: 85mg Sodium: 268mg Carbohydrates: 54g Fiber: 2g Sugar: 34g Protein: 6g

Nutrition facts are calculated by Nutritionix. I’m not a nutritionist and can’t vouch for the accuracy. If your life depends on nutritional information, please read again using your favorite reader.

The following excerpts are all from my 2010 post where I showed Grandma’s Shrimp Pie sitting on Grandma’s old table…

Notice the gray marble table in my picture? This is also my grandmother’s Renelt, chrome table and chairs bought in the 50’s. She donated the kitchen to Grandma’s farmhouse in South Dakota where my sister Frannie and aunt Karen lived.

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After my grandfather died in 2001, my grandmother started selling. This dining table and chairs are sold and caught my eye. I always like it. When the set wasn’t sold before I had to leave, I asked my dad to order it for me if it wasn’t too expensive. Then, at the last minute, I told him not to worry, I explained that I had no place to do that. I’m gone.

One day after the sale, I received a call from my father. He bought a table and chairs and I will keep them at the farm. Yooh! Father!

So when we moved to a bigger place a few years later, my father moved the property from the farm to our new house. Well used and in need of work. But with elbow oil and steel wool, the chrome shines again. When I replaced the damaged seats and back with new furniture, I found all kinds of handwritten notes that my grandmother had written under the seat. Facts about field crops, the random temperature of the sun, and the birth of Uncle Ron.

Grandma also told me about the hundreds of rolls she used to put on the table because the links were too long for her to work comfortably. And he thought how he could squeeze 8 people around the table to eat during the harvest, along with 3 hired people. Grandma also remembers how there were stains on the table. The big one was when Grandpa brought a plate of peaches. He threw the coffin across the table and nailed the bottom. And the burn marks? Oh, he was one of those kids who ran home wearing glitter!

Rhubarb Pie Recipe

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I remember the moment I discovered my passion for good food. I was 8 years old, sitting in my grandparents’ simple, wooden kitchen in Longview, Wash., eating a lunch of pickled tomatoes, wheat bread, sausage summer, milk and oatmeal. cookies. Although it was lunch time, I realized that the food I was eating was amazing. On the other hand, there is nothing unusual: almost everything served by Lola is familiar and familiar. But somehow the flavors and aromas are enhanced, refined, improved. The food itself was good. More than that, they say.

When I was a child, I didn’t know how to explain. My grandmother was not a very good eater. His style is original – typical of the Midwest. He has a good style and prepares what he knows best. But his real secret (if you can call it that; it’s important to him) is that he makes everything from fresh, homemade, canned or frozen ingredients. winter. at the peak of creativity.

It was in the 50s before Alice Waters changed the American cooking style by promoting the virtues of cooking with fresh seasonal ingredients. Most home cooks are content to use canned or frozen fruits and vegetables from grocery store shelves, and often use packaged, prepared foods like Campbell’s Meals as shortcuts for large or small meals. separately. In some parts of the country, this practice is still common.

Rhubarb Cream Cheese Spoke Cake

But in the sparsely populated area of ​​southwest Washington, my grandparents, neither of whom had more than an eighth-grade education, grew up or raised almost all the food that went into the mouths of five children at home. They moved there from Nebraska in 1944, when my grandfather was earning a good salary at an aluminum plant in Longview, a logging facility on the Columbia River. Finally sidelined by a neck wound, my grandfather stayed home and farmed four flat, fertile acres that sat on a hill covered in evergreens, almost so high that which cannot be considered a mountain. To make ends meet, my grandmother cooked for a wealthy family in Portland, 45 miles south, and cooked for them.

A grandfather with hairy hands and gray hair of old age manages the flocks: about 100 chickens run freely in the big yard; half a pig rooted in a nearby pen; some cows and two cows graze in the surrounding pastures. These domesticated animals provide them with eggs, milk, chickens, cows and pigs (and suet for soap) throughout the year.

It’s not unusual to see long summer sausages in their pantry (a comforting statement for a dark, closet-sized store where canned goods and other foods are), and they’re also smoking on hay. of them and their pasture. Extra protein is sometimes brought in from cut buffalo where my grandfather caught catfish and my grandmother cooked and fried them on the fly.

My travels were marked by the things I loved—helping milk the cows, knowing how to pour hot, fragrant liquid into a bucket—and the things I hated, like the unexpected visits of a freshly slaughtered pig carcass. hanging from an overhanging branch

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