Macaroon-Topped Rhubarb Cobbler

The tomatoes are coming in and the writing is coming along and the visits are daily and the life that I thought would be smaller without teaching is, instead, differently large — large with writing and grandchildren and cooking and the support group and the garden and the visits, large with the labor of living, which is a labor that does not diminish with age but changes shape, like water in different containers, always the same volume, always filling whatever space is available.

I finished the second chapter — the Irving chapter — and sent it to Rebecca. She called the next day and said, "Mama, the part about his hands — the way you describe his hands at the pressing machine and then his hands holding the newspaper — that part is going to make people weep." I said, "Does it make you weep?" She said, "I'm your daughter. Everything you write makes me weep. That's not a useful metric." She's right. Maternal bias is not a reliable editorial tool. But the chapter is good. I know it's good because the writing of it hurt, and the hurt is the sign that you're reaching something true, and the true is the goal.

I made a blueberry buckle — the same one I made two years ago when I was processing the retirement decision. The buckle is becoming my processing food: the food I make when something important is happening inside me and I need my hands to do something while my mind does the other thing. The buckle was excellent. The chapter is excellent. The mind and the hands are both producing, in their different ways, the things they were built to produce: words and food, sentences and crumbles, the two outputs of Ruth Feldman, running in parallel, feeding different hungers.

The buckle I mentioned is the one I always reach for when something is moving through me — but this macaroon-topped rhubarb cobbler is its cousin, cut from the same cloth: a recipe that gives your hands real work to do, layering and folding and waiting, while the rest of you catches up to whatever just happened. I made the buckle the day I sent the Irving chapter to Rebecca, and I’ve been thinking ever since about the cobbler I’ll make when the third chapter is done — the tart rhubarb underneath, the sweet coconut crown on top, the contrast that feels, honestly, like the memoir itself. If you are also someone who needs to bake through the big things, this is a good recipe for that.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 8

Ingredients

For the rhubarb filling:
5 cups fresh rhubarb, sliced 1/2-inch thick (about 1 1/2 lbs)
3/4 cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons cornstarch
1 tablespoon fresh orange juice
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
For the macaroon topping:
2 cups sweetened shredded coconut
1/3 cup granulated sugar
2 large egg whites
1/4 teaspoon almond extract
Pinch of salt
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into small pieces (for dotting the filling)

Instructions

Preheat the oven. Heat your oven to 350°F. Lightly butter a 9-by-13-inch baking dish or a 2-quart shallow casserole.
Prepare the filling. In a large bowl, toss the sliced rhubarb with 3/4 cup sugar, cornstarch, orange juice, and vanilla until evenly coated. Pour into the prepared baking dish and spread into an even layer. Dot with the small pieces of butter.
Make the macaroon topping. In a medium bowl, combine the shredded coconut, 1/3 cup sugar, egg whites, almond extract, and salt. Stir until the mixture is thoroughly combined and holds together when pressed — it will be sticky and dense.
Top the cobbler. Drop the macaroon mixture by heaping spoonfuls over the rhubarb filling, spreading it gently with the back of a spoon to cover most of the surface. It’s fine if some rhubarb peeks through at the edges.
Bake. Bake for 35–40 minutes, until the rhubarb filling is bubbling at the edges and the macaroon topping is golden brown and set. If the coconut is browning too quickly, tent loosely with foil after 25 minutes.
Rest and serve. Let the cobbler cool for at least 15 minutes before serving. The filling will thicken as it cools. Serve warm, with vanilla ice cream or lightly whipped cream if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Macaroon-Topped Rhubarb Cobbler — When the Hands Make Something While the Mind Works