Rhubarb and Pineapple Upside-down Cake

Tart rhubarb gives a different twist to this classic dessert.

Our rhubarb-pineapple upside-down cake is super moist. All that's missing is a cup of coffee.

I could never do a head stand as a kid in gym class or as an adult in yoga. Roller coasters are not for me, and I get queasy just looking at folks hanging by their heels in that contraption that’s supposed to stretch their spines.

But I can get behind an upside-down cake, that classic dessert that usually features pineapple rings with cherries in the middle. Most of us grew up with this cake because it’s been popular since the late 1920s.

However, inverted cakes date to the 1800s, according to the website What’s Cooking America. What’s more, they were known as “skillet cakes” and were cooked on top of the stove in trusty cast-iron using seasonal fruits like apples or cherries because canned pineapple wasn’t invented until 1901 (we have Jim Dole of the Hawaiian Pineapple Company—now Dole Company—to thank for that).

In fact, it was Dole’s company that sponsored a pineapple recipe contest in 1925 and thousands of pineapple upside-down cakes were entered. That’s flippin’ crazy!

Mom and Bubba (my grandma) baked their share of pineapple upside-downs for the family (this was the only time I’d eat a maraschino cherry), so this has been a favorite cake of mine for many years. The moist vanilla cake and sweet pineapple bathed in butter and brown sugar (your mouth is watering right now, isn’t it?) sometimes was topped with vanilla ice cream when we felt extra indulgent.

There also are strong memories from potluck and fish fry dinners hosted by the church we attended because we’d always find plenty of pineapple upside-down cake slices on little white paper plates that ran the length of folding tables.

I’ll bet you have your own recipe for pineapple upside-down cake, but I wonder if you’ve tried pineapple with rhubarb? I mean, 19th-century cooks used a variety of fruits for skillet cakes, so let’s have a little fun.

Actually, I was going to do strawberry-rhubarb in homage to Bubba’s wonderful pie of the same name, but I didn’t get a chance to pick strawberries last month, and those in the store have been so expensive. I took a gamble that tart rhubarb would pair with sweet pineapple, and that chance paid off.

The best rhubarb is found in the spring, so as I write this, we’re at the end of its season. In fact, I had to drive to two markets to find it. But what a way to say bon voyage to this vegetable that’s so pretty in pink. (Although U.S. Customs in New York legally classified rhubarb as a fruit in 1947.)

Rhubarb became popular after World War II when sugar became affordable; it’s nearly inedible in my opinion without it. Although as early as 2700 B.C., Chinese medical experts used the roots of rhubarb to treat a variety of ailments.

For this recipe, you’ll need:

• 2 cups fresh rhubarb (about 1 large stalk or two smaller stalks)

• 1 can crushed pineapple

• Butter

• Brown sugar

• Box of yellow cake mix

• Eggs

• Vegetable oil

One of the selling points to traditional pineapple upside-down cake is the beautiful bottom of golden pineapple rings with cheerful red cherries peeking through the holes. However, rhubarb loses its pink color when cooked, so when I flipped over the finished cake, a tan mixture of rhubarb and pineapple was revealed, which completely turned off my daughter. However, I prettied up the cake with a light dusting of powdered sugar, so what it might lack in appearance, it makes up in flavor.

I baked the cake in a cast-iron skillet, but I’m guessing any non-stick and oven-safe pan would work in this application. The key is to let the cake cook for about 10 minutes and running a knife around the outside to help loosen the skillet’s hold. But after this, the cake flipped and turned out with no problem.

The super moist vanilla cake marries with the fruit that, thanks to rhubarb, does not overpower in the sweetness department. It will make a wonderful dessert to take on a picnic or pool party this summer.

Let me know if you try this twist on a classic and what you think. I guess there’s something to that cliche—everything old is new again!

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St. Louis-style Street Corn

A zesty spice blend puts the zing into this summer side dish that comes together in a snap.

Certain foods say summer to me. I remember eating watermelon off paper plates in the back yard. Freshly picked tomatoes from Dad’s garden were sliced for sandwiches. Corn on the cob was eaten from the green and yellow corn-cob-shaped ceramic dishes Mom made. I still use those corn dishes.

Fresh, sweet corn is an essential to a Midwestern summer, and while there’s absolutely nothing wrong with spreading butter on the cob and digging in, this recipe that’s influenced by amazing Mexican street corn comes together easily and will keep your shirt a little cleaner! It reminds me a bit of the fried corn recipe my dad loved for Thanksgiving; I mean, how can cooking corn in bacon fat be anything but wonderful?

I found this recipe while doing research for a book I co-authored this spring (A Culinary History of Missouri: Foodways & Iconic Dishes of the Show-Me State) that will be published this fall by The History Press. The zing to this dish comes from fresh lime juice and Old Vienna Red Hot Ripley seasoning.

St. Louisans are familiar with Old Vienna’s Red Hot Riplets, which are ridge-cut potato chips seasoned liberally with a chili pepper/barbecue powder. Old Vienna Snack Food Company was founded by Louis Kaufman in 1936. It had changed ownership over the years and in 1996, employee Steve Hoffman and another investor bought the company—saving it from an almost certain bankruptcy—that now operates in Fenton, Missouri (just southwest of St. Louis) under Old Vienna LLC. The Red Hot Riplets are the company’s flagship product.

We love this corn dish, and I think your family will, too. If you can’t find the Red Hot Riplets seasoning near you, it’s available through the Old Vienna site, or you could substitute chili powder.

To make this dish, you’ll need:

• 2 slices of bacon

• 2 ounces Cotija or feta cheese, crumbled

• 2 cloves garlic, minced or grated

• 2 green onions, chopped, including green tops

• 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice (approximately 1 lime)

• 1 teaspoon Red Hot Riplets seasoning

• 2 tablespoons mayonnaise

• 3 cups fresh corn kernels (approximately 4 ears, shucked)

• 1/4 cup fresh cilantro, finely chopped

• 1 jalapeno, stemmed, seeded, diced

For my taste, the corn had enough “heat” to it with the seasoning, so I left out the jalapeno. If you’re taking this to a picnic or outdoor gathering, I advise keeping it chilled in a cooler or place the serving container in a bowl of ice because it’s dressed in mayonnaise.

We know corn is a cornerstone of Mexican culture and cuisine. The Mexican street corn we’re familiar with comes from Mexico City, a destination known for its street food. Mexican street corn is dressed with either mayonnaise or sour cream (instead of butter) and then finished with cheese, lime, and spices. It’s a popular item sold from food trucks or found at international festivals.

In St. Louis, a city with a rich Hispanic culture, street corn is on the menu at popular Mexican restaurants such as Mission Taco (where it’s served off the cob) and at Dos Reyes on Hampton Avenue on the city’s South Side where it’s offered as a dip or as a side.

Our Hispanic-American culture is particularly strong along Cherokee Street west of Jefferson Avenue. Since the early 1980s, numbers of Spanish-speaking people arrived in this predominately working-class South Side neighborhood. The Cinco de Mayo celebration in this neighborhood is wonderful fun, but it’s not the only Hispanic fest in the area.

The Greater St. Louis Hispanic Festival will be held this year in Florissant, located north of downtown St. Louis, on Oct. 2 and 3. Many cultures, including Hispanic/Latinix, are celebrated by the International Institute of Saint Louis’ Festival of Nations, a festival this summer that’s a mixture of virtual and in-person celebration.

In truth, St. Louis bounced between the Spanish and French since Europeans arrived here. According to the St. Louis Convention and Visitors Commission, although the territory had been ceded to Spain in 1762, the area was under French administration until 1770 when Pedro Piernas took over as the Spanish governor of St. Louis, reporting to the governor of Louisiana in New Orleans. The Louisiana territories were returned to France in 1800 with the Third Treaty of San Ildefonso.

That’s what I love about St. Louis, indeed Missouri, food: It’s been influenced by so many cultures. When I take a bite of this Hispanic-inspired corn dish, I pause to remember the people who shared their culture and cuisine with us. Give this recipe a try and let me know how it turned out for you!

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Smoked Pork Shoulder

Saint Louis BBQ Society member and judge Scott Watson uses this flavor bomb when making one of his favorite comfort foods.

Scott Watson gets ready to make barbecue magic happen.

Barbecue plays a big role in Missouri’s food culture, thanks in large part to Kansas City. This is where in the early 20th century Henry Perry set up the city’s first commercial barbecue stand, although community barbecues are documented as early as the 1860s. By the 1930s, more than 100 barbecue joints were clustered in the African-American neighborhood of 18th & Vine.

For more than 40 years, Kansas City has hosted the largest barbecue competition in the world—the American Royal World Series of Barbecue—and the Kansas City Barbeque Society sanctions more than 500 contests worldwide. In fact, Kansas City-style barbecue is one of four prominent barbecue styles in the entire country (the others being Carolina, Memphis, and Texas).

In truth, America’s barbecue culture can get a bit hazy, and not from all the smoke. There’s a lot of history, methods, sauces, and set-ups to wade through, but in the end, what you have is amazing smoked meat, and honestly, isn’t that all the matters?

A perfectly smoked pork shoulder will have the dark bark mixed in with tender meat.

This month’s home cook, Scott Watson, is a part of St. Louis’ barbecue story. Scott, who lives in Chesterfield, Missouri, is a member of the Saint Louis BBQ Society, and has also served as a contest judge. Needless to say, he knows his way around the smoker and grill. Many tips and techniques Scott picked up during Saint Louis BBQ Society meetings.

“I’ve learned a great deal from being a member and a judge for the Saint Louis BBQ Society,” Scott said. “Pre-COVID, we would hold our meetings at various barbecue restaurants in the St. Louis area, and I love to watch how the teams in a competition prepare their dishes when I get the opportunity.”

His barbecue buddies may have influenced Scott’s grill game, but his mom and her aunt taught Scott how to cook.

“I was 17 when I started to cook,” Scott said, who grew up in Pekin, Illinois, located near Peoria. “I learned over the years by helping in the kitchen. My mom was a great cook, and her aunt was a chef in a restaurant in Chicago (Henrici’s) and ran restaurants.”

Sunday dinners at his maternal grandparents’ home are strong memories for Scott.

“Aunts, uncles, cousins gathered around good German food or an excellent roast beef, as well as chicken and noodles made from scratch,” he said.

His paternal grandparents were Depression-era farmers.

“Grandma knew how to make duck in different ways; Grandpa would shoot them over the lake on their farm when there was no other meat,” he said.

Special pies—like gooseberry or rhubarb—also were on the family table, as well as a strawberry cake with strawberry icing that Scott’s great-aunt Mahala always made for his birthday.

“My wife, Marcy, has made (the cake) for many years since Aunt Mahala’s passing,” he said.

Scott noted that Marcy is a “great self-taught cook in her own right,” and they share the task of making meals, either during the week or on the weekend.

“If I am grilling or smoking meat, I plan to have it for the following week,” he said.

Beautiful grilled sirloin steaks by Scott.

Comfort food, for this barbecue aficionado includes pork steak, stuffed hamburgers, smoked pork shoulder, or Marcy’s chili. “It’s anything that I do not want to share, although I do,” he said.

Scott’s smoked pork shoulder is not spicy (in the heat sense), but “just seems to warm the soul.” He shares a recipe for Bonesmoker’s Pork Injection from Ray Lampe known as “Dr. BBQ.” Scott recommends covering the meat with plastic wrap and placing it in a large pan to avoid a mess. After injecting the meat with this mixture of fruit juices, vinegar, and spices, Scott discards the used plastic wrap, flips the shoulder over, and repeats the process. He’ll then use a dry rub on the meat before popping it into a smoker.

“My go to rub lately has been Heavy Smoke’s White Label,” he said. “Pork shoulders work best, in my opinion, on a smoker because as the time goes by, a beautiful bark forms on the surface of the meat, and it is packed with flavor. When the shoulder is pulled apart and shredded for service, that bark mixes in with the rest of the tender meat so maximum flavor is achieved.”

Smoking meat in a charcoal or gas grill can be a difficult challenge. The charcoal has to be maintained for a steady 225–250 degrees. “A gas grill may not work, but there are so many variations on grills today, a high-end grill might be able to pull it off.”

Scott also pointed out that his recipe wouldn’t work as a marinade. So, the lesson here: get the right tools for the optimum outcome. And smokers don’t have to break your budget; here’s a list, all under $100.

And for outdoor barbecue beginners, Scott recommends a good meat thermometer.

“I like the pen type for instant reads of meat temperatures,” he said. “Also, experiment with combinations of wood for a smoker. You can blend stronger woods like mesquite and hickory with pecan or oak.”

Scott, who recently retired from Guardian Life Insurance Company where he worked as a key account manager, said he and Marcy now cook for small groups of family or friends. Still, it can be a challenge to time the completion of the meat with the rest of the dinner.

But I think this backyard barbecue boss is up for the challenge.

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