In The Centre #12 | Rhubarb, orange and Campari slab pie
(With boozy Chantilly cream)
January means the (re)emergence of forced rhubarb and blood oranges. Huzzah!
In my head there’s a sophisticated or romantic reason for my love of these two ingredients. But I suspect it’s to do, as much as anything, with a school-days’ addiction to sour watermelons, astrobelts and tangfastics; and so citrus and ‘barb now simply help my need to be regularly sated by a hit of sweet-sour. There’s probably a dopamine craving too, which is relieved when the cut through confirms orange is in fact red; or when a gentle poach (and rest) successfully results in a vivid pink yet still plump baton.
Anyway, TLDR: forced rhubarb and blood oranges make this dark and grey month a whole lot better.
I always remember a couple of comments Isaac McHale made about both winter fruits* in a short film I made (checks time stamp — gosh) twelve years ago.
The video was part of a ‘This Dish’ series made with Ed Hancox, focusing on young London chef’s and a specific dish that reflected them and their restaurant at that time. In his, Isaac talks through a blood orange, sheep’s milk and fennel dessert from the very early days of The Clove Club. Dishes are more refined there now, but it still absolutely slapped! And I have to say the episode remains well worth four minutes of your time … even if only to whet your appetite for your first blood orange segment of 2025.
*yes yes rhubarb is a vegetable
For this week’s recipe, though, the focus is mostly on forced rhubarb. With just a hint of orange (which can be bloody, or not — up to you).
Because this dish, is a rhubarb, orange and Campari ‘slab’ pie, served with booze-spiked cream. It’s a pudding (or an afternoon treat) that is at once sweet, sharp, bitter and buttery. Also: nice.
The fruit is macerated, to draw out juices, and also mixed with Campari and ground almonds — the involvement of the latter means those juices thicken a little when cooked and the pastry remains satisfyingly brittle, rather than soggy.
The ‘slab’ element? Well, you could make it in a round tin. But there’s something about the straight edges and corners that feel particularly satisfying for this filling. I can think of no rhyme or reason for that.
Campari chantilly? Well, why not? Keeps the pink theme going, but also it happens to be the perfect foil for the flavours in the pie.
Look, on this occasion pictures tell the story better than words (my hairy arms, Joe Woodhouse on the camera). Have a scroll. And then make and eat it?
All the best, Ed.
The Recipe
There are four stages:
Make and rest the pastry
Roll the pastry, macerate the filling, assemble and bake the pie
Whip the cream
Eat
I trust you to work out part four on your own. The other three, plus a handful of cook’s notes and observations, are all set out below.
Here goes …
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