Rhubarb Dumplings -- Some Things Don't Need a Trophy to Know Their Worth

The Best of Nashville issue published. Sarah's Table: nominated in the "Best New Restaurant" category alongside four other restaurants. The other four are: well-established, well-funded, with chefs who have pedigrees and investors and PR teams. Sarah's Table has: a woman from Antioch, a cast iron skillet from Alabama, and an eleven-year-old Chief Photo Officer. The competition is asymmetric. The competition is beautiful.

We didn't win. A sushi restaurant won. The sushi is probably excellent. The sushi doesn't have a great-grandmother on the wall. But the sushi won and we didn't and the not-winning is: fine. The not-winning is the word I choose because the alternative words (disappointed, robbed, angry) are all available and I'm choosing fine because fine is the truth. The nomination was the win. The nomination said: the city sees you. The nomination said: six stools in a 600-square-foot restaurant on Gallatin Pike matter. The nomination was enough. The food is still the same. The cornbread is still aggressively unsweetened. Nothing changed except: one line on a resume that says "nominated" and the pride that comes from being named alongside restaurants that spend more on napkins than I spend on rent.

Chloe's reaction to not winning: "Their loss. Our cornbread is better than their sushi." Definitive. Unarguable. Delivered with the confidence of an eleven-year-old who has never eaten at the sushi restaurant and doesn't need to because she knows the cornbread and the cornbread is the standard and the standard was set by Earline and Earline doesn't lose to fish. The girl. The absolute, terrifying, magnificent girl.

Mama's reaction: "Awards are for people who need other people to tell them they're good. We don't need that. We have cornbread." We have cornbread. The Mitchell response to not winning a Best of Nashville award. We have cornbread. The sentence that contains: self-worth, defiance, Earline, Lorraine, four generations, and the absolute refusal to measure ourselves by anyone's standard but our own. We have cornbread. That's the whole speech. That's the only response needed.

I made the cornbread. The same cornbread. The cornbread that was nominated and didn't win and is still the same cornbread. The cornbread doesn't know about awards. The cornbread doesn't know about sushi restaurants. The cornbread knows about: heat, iron, and the woman who holds the spoon. The cornbread is sufficient. The cornbread has always been sufficient. The cornbread is enough.

After the results came in and Mama delivered her three-word verdict and Chloe issued her definitive ruling on sushi, I went to the kitchen and I made something. Not the cornbread — the cornbread is Earline’s and Earline’s alone and I make it when it needs to be made, not as consolation. I made rhubarb dumplings instead, because rhubarb is tart and overlooked and grows back every year without anyone giving it an award for doing so, and that felt exactly right for the evening. Some recipes don’t need validation. Some recipes just need heat and time and someone willing to show up for them. These are those dumplings.

Rhubarb Dumplings

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 55 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

• 3 cups fresh rhubarb, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
• 3/4 cup granulated sugar, divided
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/3 cup cold unsalted butter, cut into cubes, plus 2 tablespoons for the sauce
• 3/4 cup whole milk
• 1 cup water
• 1/2 cup packed brown sugar
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Instructions

1. Heat the oven. Preheat oven to 375°F. Lightly butter a 9x13-inch baking dish and set aside.
2. Season the rhubarb. In a medium bowl, toss the rhubarb with 1/4 cup of the granulated sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg until evenly coated. Let it sit while you make the dough — the rhubarb will begin to release its juice, which is what you want.
3. Make the dumpling dough. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, and remaining 1/2 cup granulated sugar. Cut in the cold butter using a pastry cutter or your fingertips until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Pour in the milk and stir just until a soft dough comes together. Do not overwork it.
4. Form the dumplings. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and roll to about 1/4-inch thickness. Cut into 6 rough squares or rectangles. Spoon a generous portion of the rhubarb mixture into the center of each piece, fold the dough up around the filling, and pinch the seams closed. Place seam-side down in the prepared baking dish.
5. Make the sauce. In a small saucepan over medium heat, combine the water, brown sugar, 2 tablespoons butter, and vanilla. Stir until the butter melts and the sugar dissolves, about 3 minutes. Pour the sauce evenly over and around the dumplings in the baking dish.
6. Bake. Bake uncovered for 32—36 minutes, until the dumplings are golden on top and the sauce is bubbling around the edges. The bottoms will be tender and soaked through. Let rest 10 minutes before serving.
7. Serve. Spoon dumplings into bowls and ladle the pan sauce over the top. Good warm. Good plain. Good enough.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 385 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 65g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 340mg