A Clap of Thunder

Rhubarb Vanilla Fizz

Oklahoma’s stormy weather season has begun, and vigilantly long nights have arrived. I miss California earthquakes and Rocky Mountain thunderstorms because my survival chances are higher, and I can usually get back to sleep. Tulsa is different. Living in Tornado Alley resembles Vegas roulette: tornados will always hit; you simply don’t know where. The barker’s yell resonates, “Step right up. Take your chances in Tulsa. Watch the weather spin. Spinning, spinning, where the funnel finger lands, nobody knows!” All I can do is watch and then, if needed, take cover.

The 2 am clap of thunder heralded the arrival of the forecasted rain. Keeping the room dark, I threw open the curtains and stared, as my parents often did when I was not much higher than a grasshopper. Big, fat, splashy drops drenched dirty weeds in need of watering as the light show danced across the sky. Nervous dogs shivered next to my knee. I patted their heads and murmured, “It’s magnificent, and we are safe here. Go to sleep while I watch.”

Nights are long when you spend them waiting and worrying, wondering about what-ifs. The emergency radio was uselessly packed away in some box.* Luckily, my phone was charged. Turned to the local NPR station, its narrative kept me company.

Around 4 am, I crawled back into bed, thinking the game over. I immediately fell asleep with dogs, seeking reassurance and comfort, plastering their small, shivering bodies against mine. 

Sadly, a deep sleep was not in the cards. Shortly after 6 am, the tornado warning siren wailed. Calculating the odds, I dragged myself out of bed, headed to the closet, dogs in tow, and waited for about 3 minutes. The siren wound down and petered out, signaling the all-clear. 

Similar to all those visitors in Vegas, emerging into the daylight after spending hours in the casinos’ darkened clutches, the day looked freshly washed and calm. The storm had passed. Thinking I had won this round of roulette, I celebrated by making a morning mocktail.

I raised the glass, thanking whatever deity still listens for a safe night. From the first sip, I delighted in the zippy-di-do-dah flavor powerhouse known as rhubarb.

*Note to self: For the love of god, find the damn thing, make sure it works, and put it somewhere easy to find.

RHUBARB VANILLA FIZZ

INGREDIENTS

RHUBARB VANILLA PURÉE

• 2 pounds fresh or frozen rhubarb, roughly chopped into small pieces

• 1½ cups sugar

• ¼ cup water

• ½ cup apple cider vinegar

• 1 Tablespoon vanilla paste, 1 vanilla bean split, or 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

RHUBARB VANILLA FIZZ

• 2 ounces Rhubarb Vanilla Purée

• 1½ ounces vodka (optional)

• 2 ounces sparkling water

• 2 ounces buttermilk or kefir

• 2 ounces of chipped ice

METHOD

RHUBAR VANILLA PURÉE

1. In a heavy-bottomed pan, add the rhubarb, sugar, and water. (If using a vanilla bean, scrape the seeds out and add the pod and seeds to the pan in this step.)

2. Bring the pan to a boil before reducing the temperature down to a simmer.

3. Simmer until the sugar is melted and the rhubarb’s fibers have softened and started to disintegrate.

4. Stir in the vinegar and turn off the heat.

5. Cool for 5 minutes before stirring in the vanilla paste of vanilla extract.

6. Cool completely. If you used the vanilla bean pod, remove it.

7. Whiz up in a blender to a fine purée.

8. Store refrigerated in a closed container for up to seven days.

RHUBARB VANILLA FIZZ

1. To make the drink: add the purée, vodka, if using, buttermilk, sparkling water, and ice.

2. Blend on medium-high until frothy. 

3. Decant into a chilled or frozen glass and enjoy.