There will be a moment, six months from now, when you open your freezer and see that bag. You’ll forget you even have it. It will feel like finding a twenty-dollar bill in a coat you haven’t worn since 2019. You’ll feel smug. You’ll feel prepared. You’ll feel like someone who definitely has their life together, even if your laundry is still in a pile on the couch.
And then you’ll make a damn good crumble, and you’ll eat it while watching the snow fall. That’s the power of frozen rhubarb—it’s a little bit of summer rebellion against the winter blues. Go on. Freeze that stalk. You’ve got this.
