Being fond of neither gardening nor mud (benchmarks of spring here in the Midwest), I thought about not doing a "what I'm hoping" spring post. But being very fond of completion and closure, I thought I'd better finish what I started. Herewith...
1. Not shiver while I'm pumping gas.
2. Enjoy the sweet spot of the year on the college sports calendar. Namely, that brief respite when neither the men's football team nor the men's basketball team from Michigan State University (my husband's alma mater and the object of his, er, "passionate" devotion) is doing anything that can send my fanatic fan into a tailspin of despair. Like, say, losing.
3. Wear 3/4 sleeve shirts. I am cold-blooded, so I generally do not get the appeal of this rather indecisive piece of apparel. But I've got a few cute shirts of this nature, so at least spring gives me a chance to pull them out of the depths of my dresser drawers.
4. Listen to Vivaldi's "Spring" from The Four Seasons.
5. Wear only one or two layers when I go for my morning power walk instead of three or four.
6. Make a rhubarb custard pie. More importantly, eat a rhubarb custard pie. I know rhubarb is rather the ugly stepsister of the vegetable family, but mix it with eggs and sugar and--oh my, yes--freshly grated nutmeg and put it into my mom's life-changing pie crust, and it becomes the belle of the spring ball. That this is utterly un-chocolate and yet I still love it should tell you a lot.
Since I'm writing this before the actual advent of rhubarb season, I don't have a picture of this pie. But I do have this picture of a nutmeg grater and whole nutmeg. Which really do make this pie (see below).
Rhubarb Custard Pie {print}
1 unbaked 9" single-crust pie shell (my mom's recipe follows if you want to use it)
1 1/2 cups sugar
1/4 cup flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
3/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg (if you're not already familiar with the joys of freshly ground nutmeg, I strongly suggest you make its acquaintance...it's one of the best things in life)
3 slightly beaten eggs
4 cups sliced fresh rhubarb
1/2 cup flour
1/4 cup sugar
1/3 cup butter, cut into small pieces
Preheat your oven to 400 degrees. In a large bowl, mix the 1 1/2 cups sugar, 1/4 cup flour, salt, and nutmeg. Add the eggs and beat well. Gently fold in the rhubarb. Dump into your unbaked pie crust. In a small bowl, mix the 1/2 cup flour and the 1/4 cup sugar, then cut in the butter with a fork. Sprinkle over the top of the pie. Cover the whole pie with a piece of foil. Bake for 20 minutes. Remove the foil and check for browning. If the pie looks like it's doing some (browning, that is), keep the foil on. If it looks pale, remove the foil. Either way, continue baking the pie for 20-30 minutes more until the pie is set. You do not want raw custard at the edges, but a little "jiggly" in the middle is okay. Remove to a wire rack to cool before you cut it.
My Mom's Pie Crust {print}
3 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup unsalted butter, cold and cut into smallish pieces
1/2 cup shortening, cold
1 egg
1/3 cup cold water
1 tablespoon white or cider vinegar
In a large bowl, mix the flour and salt. Throw in the pieces of butter and tablespoon-sized "portions" of shortening and cut all these into the flour mixture with a pastry blender or a fork or two knives. Whisk the remaining crust ingredients and toss with the flour mixture until it starts to form a ball. Add a couple extra drops of water if it seems too dry. Divide in thirds, form into balls, and chill for at least an hour (or up to a few days) before you roll it out and use it in any recipe.
7. Sleep. I mean, yes, this is an all-season wish, but I am hoping to do it.
8. Eat roasted asparagus with browned butter. Truly, browned butter is so good, it should be illegal. Trim some asparagus and toss it with olive oil, salt, and pepper on a sheet pan. Throw in a 400 degree oven for a few to several minutes until it's browned and as tender as you want. Meanwhile, put a couple tablespoons butter in the lightest-colored small saucepan or skillet you've got. Melt over mediumish heat and cook just until you start to see brown bits. Pull it off the heat ASAP, or you will soon have burned butter. Which is so bad it should be illegal. Drizzle your browned butter on your roasted asparagus and, if you want to take it beyond beyond, splash on some balsamic vinegar.
9. Rake up winter's detritus from our yard. While I detest gardening, I love raking. It's the vacuuming of outdoor chores. Instant gratification for neat-freaks.
10. Celebrate Easter and God's radical, eternal yes. "In the resurrection, God rejected our rejection. In the crucifixion, we said 'no' to God, but in the resurrection, God said, 'yes' to us." (Philip Gulley, Home to Harmony)
Previous posts that might have something to do with this one:
What I'm Hoping to Do This Fall
Why I Love Winter & What I'm Hoping To Do During This One
What I'm Hoping to Do This Summer
Grumpy Gardener Girl
Chocolate Cream Pie: A Love Story
Five Things I Do (Almost) Every Day
My Ten Favorite Mom Jobs
Happily shared here and here:
