Strawberry Rhubarb Crumble. Or, why it's ok to sometimes use a boxed cake mix.

I have a confession. Sometimes I buy a box of cake mix. There. I said it. And I'm not sorry... Ok. I'm a little sorry.

Usually I don't see the point of pre-packaged cake mix because a cake is essentially flour, sugar and eggs and it's more trouble to go buy a box of cake mix than to just throw something together with whatever I happen to have on hand in my kitchen. But sometimes... sometimes I buy a box of cake mix.

And then it sits on my shelf. And it sits there. And I use up all the flour and sugar and eggs making cakes from scratch. And the box of cake mix sits there. And then I start to feel guilty, because inside that cake mix is a delicious dessert just waiting for me to add eggs, oil, and water. And frosting. And I'm standing in its way with my fancy flour and sugar and eggs.

And when that happens, when I become racked with guilt over the poor sad box of cake mix in my pantry, I buy rhubarb.

And I make a rhubarb crumble.

I learned the wonders of the rhubarb crumble when I was about 9 or 10 and a friend of my family, Aunt Shelley, came to visit. During the course of her visit she discovered that we had rhubarb growing in our back yard and made the most delicious summer treat ever. Aunt Shelley was a culinary genius.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered that it was so easy that I, a mere child, could make it! And I've been making it ever since. I wanted to give Aunt Shelley full credit for inventing this simple yet delicious recipe, but my mom informs me that if came from... sigh... the side of a cake box.

Side of said cake box sent to me by my mom. But, as you can see, still modified by Aunt Shelley, culinary genius.

I still think Aunt Shelley is a culinary genius.

So here's the recipe for strawberry-rhubarb crumble, with a few minor changes. I also made it in jars, because, you know I love that. But you can make it in a 9X13 pan if you are a 9X13 kind of person.

Strawberry Rhubarb Crumble

Ingredients: 

4 c cut rhubarb
2-ish cups cut strawberries
1 c sugar
3 oz package strawberry jello
1 c water
1 package white (or yellow) cake mix
1 stick of melted butter

You won't believe this. Just layer them. That's right. Nothing fancy.

Start with the rhubarb and strawberries.

Pile on the sugar. Top with the jello.

Pour the water on top. Sprinkle with the cake mix.

Douse with the butter.

No really. That's it. No mixing. No fancy kitchen equipment. Just throw it all in there.

Then bake at 350 for 45 minutes if you're using a 9X13 pan or 35 minutes if you're using half pint jars like I did. You want it to be golden brown and delicious looking.

See? Delicious.

When life gives you yellow cake, scrap it in favor of pie!

For some reason I cannot bake a yellow cake. Chocolate cake? Yes. White cake? Yes. Red Velvet? Bring it on. But yellow? No. Every time I try to bake a yellow cake disaster strikes. When I was in college I made a yellow cake to take to some colleagues (in this case the colleagues were literally a bunch of chimps) and one thing led to another and the cake ended up upside down in my parents’ driveway. Yellow cake: 1. Ellen: 0.

Since then, things have not gotten any better. Just in the last few months I have ruined at least 3 (THREE) perfectly innocent yellow cakes. Just the other day I decided to try to make this beautiful lemon layer cake from cooks illustrated. So delicious. Yellow cake with lemon curd filling and a light fluffy frosting! Things were going to be great! And then it fell sideways. No amount of icing would save it. Yellow cake: 2. Ellen: 0.

So then, this weekend I decided I would defeat this cake. I would finally bake a yellow cake worth eating. I would bake it in jars. Jars provide so much structure that they don’t let cake fall sideways. Jars fix everything. I made the lemon curd. It was delicious. Things were off to a great start. I made the cakes in jars and… well… Yellow cake: 3. Ellen: 0.

I wasn’t going to allow the yellow cake to ruin the rest of my day. And I had a beautiful lemon curd that I had to do SOMETHING with. When life gives you failed cake, make pie! Pie never lets me down. Pie is always there for me. Pie is the best. So I made lemon meringue pie. In jars. I know, I’m obsessed with the jars. Take that yellow cake. Take THAT.

Lovely Lemon Curd!

I made two crusts using the butter crust recipe described in the derby pie in jars recipe and half pint jars (all my 4 oz jars were otherwise occupied… derby pies, crème brulee, pots de crème, oh my!). This made 15 crusts, but maybe could have made more if I smooshed them better. But I was having a rough day.

Lemon Meringue Pies in Jars!

I made these lovely lemon meringue pies, and they turned out fabulously! However, my lemon curd only lasted for 9 pies. I had 6 pies left. 6 empty pie shells waiting for something amazing to happen to them. Namely, chocolate pie. It became a 2 mixer day! I love 2 mixer days!

Two Mixers!

Then this happened.

Yes. That’s chocolate, all over me. All over me and my dorky math shirt (also a hole in my sock. Don’t tell my mother). I blame the yellow cake... that spiteful jerk. The chocolate pie did not turn out so deliciously (perhaps because almost all the chocolate ended up all over me), so I will just give you my improvised lemon meringue pie recipe. Best of luck. I hope you have better kitchen karma than I.

Improvised Lemon Meringue Pie (much of this comes from the Cooks Illustrated lemon cake recipe) 

Ingredients:

1 batch of the butter crust recipe (see the derby pie page) 

Lemon Curd:

• 1 c fresh lemon juice (6-ish lemons, depending on the size; plus 1 T for the meringue) 
• 1 t unflavored gelatin powder 
• 1 ½ c sugar 
• pinch of salt 
• 4 large eggs 
• 6 large egg yolks (hold onto 2 of the whites!) 
• 1 stick of unsalted butter, cut into ½ inch cubes and frozen (you can put it in the freezer before you start the rest of the recipe, it works just as well)

Meringue:

• 2 egg whites 
• 1 c sugar 
• ¼ c water
• 1 T lemon juice
• 1 T corn syrup 

Start by making a dozen 4 oz jar pie crusts (or probably 1 regular size pie would work). Stick them in the fridge while you’re making the lemon curd. 

Measure 1 T lemon juice into a little cup, sprinkle gelatin over top and set aside. Heat the remaining lemon juice, sugar and salt in a pan over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally until sugar dissolves and mixture is hot (but not boiling).

Whisk eggs and yolks in a bowl, and while whisking constantly, pour lemon-sugar syrup into the eggs and return to pan.

Cook over medium-low heat and stir constantly with a spatula or spoon (not a whisk, which is what I have a tendency to do) until the mixture has thickened and reaches 170 degrees (about 5 minutes).

Remove from heat and stir in gelatin/lemon juice mixture until it’s thoroughly dissolved. Then add in the frozen butter until it’s incorporated.

Pour through a strainer into a bowl and cover tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate.

Bake your pie crusts at 350 until golden brown. I think it took about 10-15 minutes. Give or take.

Cool the crusts to room temperature, then fill about ½ to ¾ of the way with lemon curd mixture. Again, I like to use a cookie scoop for this to make things easier.

Then, make your meringue topping. Combine all meringue ingredients in a bowl of a mixer and place in a double boiler (or a pan with an inch of water in the bottom). Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture reaches 160 degrees (5 – 10 minutes). Remove from heat and beat on medium speed until soft peaks form (5-ish minutes) and then turn speed up to medium-high and beat until mixture has cooled and stiff peaks form (another 5 minutes).

Use your trusty ice cream scoop to scoop meringue on top of the pies, and torch with a kitchen torch!

Enjoy!  

Pre-Torched

Post-Torched