A Love Story, for real.

 

Oh Rhubard, you’ll never leave me! If you do, I’ll eat you up…in a crisp.

Advertisements

7 responses to “A Love Story, for real.

  1. You have made me feel hungry.

  2. I saw the red, and hoped … ahh rhubarb, if done well. The existential horror of walking into a bakery in Scotland and having to choose between rhubarb tart and trifle. I had both. It is not eaten so much here. My theories are that it was associated with poverty, like rabbit and chokoes, the survival food of the great depression, or because everyone’s great grandmother grew it and just boiled the hell out of it, and served it wet and sloppy.

  3. I never tried, now I want it!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s