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Strawberry Rhubarb Crisp — When Close Enough Is a Kind of Love

A week after the search results and I have been holding them carefully, looking at them the way you look at something fragile. I told Gloria on Sunday. I sat at her kitchen table while the chicken simmered and I told her about Crystal Dawkins and the search and what I found.

Gloria did not look surprised. She said: I wondered when you would start looking. I said I did not know I had been waiting. She said: you have. You have been ready for a while. You just had to build enough of yourself first. That sentence landed in a place I did not know was waiting for it.

She said: whatever she is, whatever happened, that is not what made you. I said I know. She said: I want you to know it in your bones, not just your head. She said: you were made by every Sunday dinner and every biscuit and every morning you chose to get up and go to work. She said: you made yourself. She was there for some of it. I said yes ma'am. She said: so did I.

I made her lemon cream tart that evening, a dessert she had mentioned years ago that her mother used to make, that I had been trying to recreate for six months without the recipe. Sweet pastry shell, lemon cream filling that is somewhere between curd and cheesecake, topped with fresh whipped cream and a little candied lemon zest. She tasted it and said: that is not quite right. I said I know. She said: but it is close. Next time add more zest. I said yes ma'am.

Gloria’s kitchen has always been a place where things get said that needed saying, and that Sunday was no different. I went home with her voice in my chest and a note on my phone: more zest next time. The lemon tart is still a work in progress — but in the meantime, this strawberry rhubarb crisp is the dessert I come back to when I need something that is honest and a little tart and still, somehow, sweet. It is not the recipe I was chasing, but it is the one that reminds me that close is its own kind of right.

Strawberry Rhubarb Crisp

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr 5 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

  • 3 cups fresh strawberries, hulled and halved
  • 2 cups rhubarb, sliced 1/2 inch thick
  • 1/2 cup granulated sugar
  • 2 tablespoons cornstarch
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 1 cup old-fashioned rolled oats
  • 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1/2 cup packed brown sugar
  • 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, cold and cut into small pieces

Instructions

  1. Preheat. Heat your oven to 350°F. Lightly butter a 9x13-inch baking dish or equivalent.
  2. Make the filling. In a large bowl, toss the strawberries and rhubarb with the granulated sugar, cornstarch, and vanilla extract until evenly coated. Pour into the prepared baking dish and spread into an even layer.
  3. Make the topping. In a separate bowl, combine the oats, flour, brown sugar, cinnamon, and salt. Add the cold butter pieces and use your fingers or a pastry cutter to work the butter into the dry ingredients until the mixture resembles coarse, clumpy crumbs. Do not overmix — you want some larger pieces for texture.
  4. Assemble. Scatter the oat topping evenly over the fruit filling, covering it as completely as you can.
  5. Bake. Bake for 40 to 45 minutes, until the topping is golden brown and the fruit filling is bubbling around the edges. If the topping browns too quickly, tent loosely with foil for the last 10 minutes.
  6. Rest and serve. Let the crisp rest for at least 10 minutes before serving. Serve warm on its own or with a scoop of vanilla ice cream or fresh whipped cream.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 290 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 50g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 80mg

Savannah Clarke
About the cook who shared this
Savannah Clarke
Week 358 of Savannah’s 30-year story · Prattville, Alabama
Savannah is twenty-seven, engaged, and a daycare worker in Prattville, Alabama, who grew up in foster care and never had a kitchen to call her own until she was nineteen. She taught herself to cook from YouTube videos and church cookbooks, and now she makes fried chicken that would make your grandmother jealous. She writes for the girls who grew up like her — without a family recipe box, without a mama in the kitchen, without anyone to show them how. She's showing them now.

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