The curious scent of cooked rhubarb and strawberries
This isn’t your regular applesauce. The aroma hits you first—tart rhubarb melting into sweet strawberries, with hints of vanilla and a slight zing of lemon. It smells like a backyard garden in bloom—and I don’t mean the floral side, but that sharp, lively scent of something just under control. Makes you stop what you’re doing. I made this because I overslept and needed something vivid, something that screams spring but also feels like comfort food for those tricky in-between days. It’s weird how balancing the tartness of rhubarb and the blood-red richness of strawberries somehow makes everything seem a little simpler. No fancy ingredients, no fuss. Just a bowl of approachable summer in winter, if you ask me.

Rhubarb and Strawberry Compote
Ingredients
Equipment
Method
- Prepare the ingredients by washing and chopping the rhubarb into 1-inch pieces and hulled strawberries halved. Measure out the sugar, vanilla, and lemon juice.
- Combine the chopped rhubarb, strawberries, sugar, vanilla extract, and lemon juice in the medium saucepan. Stir to evenly distribute the ingredients.
- Place the saucepan over medium heat. Cook, stirring frequently with a wooden spoon or silicone spatula, until the mixture begins to bubble and the sugar dissolves completely.
- Reduce the heat to low once bubbling occurs, and continue cooking for about 15-20 minutes. Stir occasionally and watch for the fruit to soften, releasing juices, and the mixture to thicken slightly with a glossy appearance.
- Remove from heat when the fruit is tender, the mixture has thickened to a sauce-like consistency, and the colors are vibrant and deepened. Let it cool slightly before serving or storing.
- Serve the compote warm or chilled over desserts, yogurt, or breakfast items. Optionally, spoon into jars for storage.
This stuff doesn’t keep for ages, but I doubt you’ll want to. Too much of that fresh, sharp clash of flavors. It’s like a small act of rebellion—you’re eating dessert for breakfast, or maybe breakfast for dessert. Whatever. You’ll remember it next time you’re reaching for something bright, something honest, something that’s a little surprising. Like, wait—why did I wait so long to combine these three?