If you throw a pie, make it rhubarb

It’s hard to turn down a good piece of pie—even if that piece of pie happens to have rhubarb in it. There are people out there who love rhubarb. They mash it up in jam, squeeze it into juice, or dip the stalks in sugar and eat it like pandas gnawing on bamboo. These are also the kinds of people who love vinegar, the sound of teeth grinding, and can spend a day wearing wet socks. My own grandmother was a rhubarb fan, and could grow it half as high as the garage, which was helpful whenever we jumped off her garage and needed a place to land. We always thought it was a weed. I still think it is. The plant came from Asia, where historians believe it was eaten by Mongolians and the tribes of the Gobi Desert. This explains a lot, because there isn’t typically a lot of food one can enjoy in a desert, and rhubarb does taste slightly better than dirt, especially when baked in a pie. It also helps explain why early marauders like Genghis Khan and Attila the Hun were so bent on exploring and conquering the world. They were probably just looking for a better piece of pie. Can’t say as I blame them. If Attila or Genghis had ventured far enough to find peaches, I doubt they would ever have returned home. The plant is prized by pie makers, because it turns red and fools them into thinking it is some type of fruit. It is also one of the first food plants to be ready for harvest in cooler climates, well before apples and blueberries, and all the other assorted plants that are actually pleasant to eat. Rhubarb use didn’t really catch on until the rise of affordable sugar. Before that, not even the dogs would sniff a rhubarb pie. Fast forward to today, and East Sussex, England, where organizers hoped to break the world pie fighting record. The previous record was 70 pie-throwing participants, but word soon spread and an estimated 1,200 people indicated they were willing to join in the fun. Local police stepped in to stop the event at the last minute, saying they were worried they would be unable to control a pie fighting mob of that size, and couldn’t prevent innocent bystanders from being accidentally struck by flying pies. Authorities eventually relented and said the event could continue, but with reasonable numbers. What you and I both know, and no one has the guts to say, is that the police most likely shut the pie fight down because no one was going to be throwing rhubarb pies. Throwing any other kind of pie would be a waste. If you are the type of person who would throw a rhubarb pie, here’s a hint. Gather up all the rhubarb you can, save yourself the trouble of baking a pie, and then throw all the stalks into a river or over a steep cliff. There might even be a world record in it for you. With so many food choices at our disposal today, there really is no excuse for anyone to be baking rhubarb pies. Strawberry-rhubarb pie can be delicious, and I had one on Sunday that was excellent; but I’m a trooper, and am ready, willing and able to wait until the peach pies, apple pies, raspberry pies and blueberry pies are ready. Or until I find myself stranded in the Gobi Desert.