Diana B. gets the Godiva and Amazon. Congratulations, Diana, and please respond to my e-mail so your treats can be sent.
Thanks to all who left comments. Maybe next time the random number generator will like you best of all.
Speaking of which: Be sure to check out this Friday’s giveaway, which is somewhat otherworldly.
Rhubarb in every yard
I recently attended a barbecue that was wryly dubbed “Grill, baby, grill!” by its hosts. As I was leaving they gave me a small sack of newly cut rhubarb. Alaskans are nuts about the stuff. In the old days, rhubarb was the first fresh food of the year. To the pioneers it must have tasted positively ambrosial after a winter of sourdough bread and boiled beans.
Modern-day sourdoughs can get all the fresh produce they want at Costco, yet they maintain an ancestral fondness for this vegetable that masquerades as a fruit. Even people who don’t eat it grow it, probably because it takes no horticultural talent at all. Stick a rhubarb root into dry cat litter and by morning you’ll have enough stalks to bake a pie. (Stick it in used cat litter and you’ll have enough for two pies.)