I made rhubarb sauce a couple of days ago. The last of it to be had.
My ever-expanding waistline does not need me making rhubarb sauce because with the sauce comes the vanilla ice cream. I love the combination of the tangy sauce with the smooth, sweet creaminess of the ice cream. A little too much. I have never in my life learned the virtue of moderation. At this stage I believe I never shall.
I took care of my neighbor's sheep and chickens over the 4th of July holiday and today she brought me some barbecue sauce as a gift. It feels like a languid summer day just begging for a rack of ribs on the grill. The arrival of smokey sauce I do believe has sealed the deal. Ribs, salad and ice cream topped with rhubarb sauce. As American as apple pie.