When something bad or upsetting happens our appetite is often quick to disappear. Food is frequently bound up with happy occasions and, when the inverse happens, the last thing we want to do is eat.
However, in Sarah Winman’s 2011 debut novel When God was a Rabbit, food and tragic or difficult events are often combined, creating what seems – initially at least – to be an unsettling effect.
Winman’s novel is somewhat whimsical and difficult to pin down. Unreal elements – including a talking rabbit – sit alongside real historical events (IRA bombings in 1970s London; the attacks on the Twin Towers of New York on 11th September 2001 [9/11]). But at its heart the novel is a story of relationships, of families and friendships, and how they endure throughout life’s complications and tragedies.
The novel spans four decades, opening in 1968 with the birth of the narrator Eleanor Maud, known as Elly. Elly lives with her brother, Joe, five years her senior, to whom she is very close, and her parents in London. When Elly is six, Joe buys her a rabbit (actually a Belgian hare) for Christmas and persuades her to call it god (much to the consternation of Elly’s schoolteacher who accuses her of blasphemy). But the name turns out to be rather apt, with the ‘rabbit’ demonstrating a supernatural ability to speak and dispense wise advice: after Elly’s disastrous audition for her school Nativity play, he says: ‘”Don’t worry,..It’ll all come good in the end. Always does.”’ When Elly is ten the family leave London and move to Cornwall, forcing Elly to leave behind her best friend Jenny Penny and her chaotic home life with a single mother and her series of unpredictable and abusive boyfriends, a legacy that she will pass down to her daughter.
The novel ends just before Christmas 2001, three months after 9/11, a tragic event which casts a shadow over the family when Joe goes missing (you’ll need to read the novel to discover the outcome). And in fact a tragic faultline runs through the whole novel which opens with the death of Ella’s maternal grandparents whilst on a walking holiday in Austria, and also includes sexual abuse, suicide, depression, cancer, domestic abuse, a kidnapping and terrorist attacks. But whilst the tragic events are not made light of, they are nonethless worn lightly and balanced out by the love and generosity that abound in the relationships that form the central plank of the novel. As the characters navigate their way through life, they tread a path that moves from shadows to light and back again, an acknowledgement that both darkness and light are essential for the fullest existence.
Maybe that is why food is often mentioned in the darkest episodes of the story. This unexpected juxtaposition appears early on with the death of Elly’s maternal grandparents in the coach crash in Austria. 27 tourists in total are killed, the sole survivor being the German tour guide who, from his hospital bed, tells the television crew that ‘although it was a tragic accident, they had just eaten so they died happy’.
A few years later Elly’s mother finds a lump in her breast, which she attributes to the trauma of losing her parents. She delivers the news of discovering it to the family ‘as she placed the Bakewell tart onto the kitchen table and handed us the plates’.
When Joe’s childhood friend, Charlie, is kidnapped and his ear cut off, the family watch the story reported on the news whilst Aunt Nancy ‘layered cream onto a trifle that none of us felt like eating’. Later, when it is Joe who has gone missing – following the attacks on the Twin Towers – Elly and Charlie go out for dinner: ‘We ate from platters of fruits de mer and drank Burgundy and ate steak frites and drank more Burgundy’.
The food that is prepared, served up and eaten at these tragic moments is a reminder that in the midst of death there is life, and light can be found in the darkest places. So to celebrate the darkness I made Elly’s mother’s bakewell tart (thankfully the breast lump turns out to be benign). Bakewell tart, with its cake-y almond topping, is one of my favourite puddings. It’s traditionally made with raspberry jam, but I had a glut of rhubarb, and rhubarb and almonds go together well, so this is my variation. However, you could replace the rhubarb puree with 3 heaped tablespoons of raspberry jam.
TRAGIC RHUBARB BAKEWELL TART
Ingredients (for 1 small tart, serves 4):
For the pastry case:
125g plain flour
Pinch salt
65g unsalted butter (fridge-cold), diced
1 small free-range egg, beaten
For the filling:
200g trimmed rhubarb, sliced into chunks (and sugar to taste)
125g unsalted butter
125g caster sugar
125g ground almonds
½ teaspoon almond extract / essence
Sieved icing sugar for dusting the tart after baking
Method:
Begin by making the pastry. Sieve the flour and salt into a mixing bowl. Add the butter, rubbing it into the flour with your fingertips until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs. Add the egg bit by bit, and using a knife stir it into the mixture until it comes together in clumps; you can then use your hands to squeeze it into a ball. N.B.: you may not need the whole egg, so don’t add it all at once. Wrap the pastry in clingfilm or greaseproof paper and place in the fridge for 30 minutes.
Preheat the oven to 200C/ 180C Fan / Gas mark 6. Remove the pastry from the fridge, roll it out on a floured surface to the thickness of a one pound coin and then line a greased 20cm flan or tart tin with it. Line the pastry case with foil or greaseproof paper and fill with baking beans. Bake blind in the preheated oven for about 15 minutes, and then remove the foil and beans and bake the case in the oven for another 5 minutes. Remove from the oven, but keep the oven on.
In the meantime place the rhubarb in a small saucepan with a tablespoon of water. Place the lid on the saucepan and place over a medium heat, stirring with a wooden spoon from time to time, until the rhubarb has broken down into a puree – this will take about 15 minutes. Add enough sugar to make the rhubarb your desired sweetness. Spoon the rhubarb puree onto the pastry base and spread it to make an even layer.
To make the almond mixture, melt the butter in a saucepan over a medium heat. When the butter has melted remove it from the heat and stir in the sugar. Add the ground almonds, egg and almond extract; stir until combined and then pour into the pastry case so that it completely covers the rhubarb.
Place the tart in the oven and bake for 30-35 minutes. Check after 25 minutes and, if the top is browning too quickly but is still soft, cover loosely with foil for the remaining cooking time. The finished tart should be risen and golden-brown, and feel cake-y if you press down lightly with a finger.
Remove the tart from the oven and allow to cool for 15-20 minutes. Then dust with sieved icing sugar before serving (either warm or cold).
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