Phantom Rhubarb
I looked forward to the summer trips we took as kids to my cousins' house in Bucks County, PA for a couple of reasons. One: Aunt Elsie stocked her pantry with junk food, the shelves lined with boxes of Pringles, fudgey Space Food Sticks, and sugary cereals – all off-limits at home. Two: whiffle ball games in the backyard with my brother and cousins, who were baseball fanatics, to say the least. I played a decent game, but my secret joy for joining the boys was Uncle Rich’s garden, behind the "outfield." I have vivid memories of tiptoeing around the marigolds at the perimeter and jumping over the zucchini vines to get to the rhubarb plants, where I’d snap and twist off a stalk to munch on, loving the extreme sour and the puckering after effect. A prequel to my adolescent love of Sour Patch Kids perhaps. Some years ago, having reconnected with the Bucks County folks, I asked my uncle about the rhubarb. He said he never grew it.
Makes 1 drink
- 1 ½ ounces rye
- 1 ounce rhubarb liqueur
- ½ ounce kirsch
- ½ ounce fresh lime juice
- 1 tablespoon syrup from jar of Luxardo cherries
- Ice
- Big ice cube
Add the rye, rhubarb liqueur, kirsch, lime juice, and syrup to a shaker. Add ice and shake to chill. Strain over a big ice cube in a rocks glass.
Garnish: Luxardo cherry on a cocktail pick
