Rooting for Rhubarb

It's spring, so my mind is turning to all of the green shoots of the new season.
The chives are already sprouting in my backyard and my grocery store just trucked in a fresh batch of strawberries that actually taste like strawberries.
One of my favourite delectables in the spring is rhubarb, and not just because it grew like wild flowers on our ranch when I was growing up in southwestern Saskatchewan.
When people make rhubarb, they usually employ it in the most predictable (though admittedly delicious) of ways.
There's strawberry rhubarb pie. Strawberry rhubarb jam. And, if you're really adventurous, there's strawberry rhubarb fool (the fool being one of my favourite desserts because it's sumptuous and easy: whip cream, add vanilla, fold in fresh or stewed fruit and voila!).
I like to think of rhubarb as a savoury more than a sweet -- partly because you have to work with so much sugar to make rhubarb acceptable as a sweet dessert and, where I can, I try to do without sugar.
I went looking for a savoury rhubarb recipe but didn't yield much -- though this Stilton Cheesecake did catch my eye.
My favourite thing to do with rhubarb is to make a savoury but rustic compote.

I'm sure there are recipes out there for one but this is how I make mine.

Onion and Rhubarb Compote

I take about four stalks of rhubarb and cut them down to size (half inch pieces).

I do the same with two onions, chopping them in thin half rings as opposed to a fine dice because I'm not an exacting cook and I prefer rustic to perfection. I also don't entirely trust myself with a sharp knife so I try to keep my chopping requirements loose.

Drizzle olive oil onto a fry pan and get that baby smokin' hot. Add the onions and rhubarb -- seasoning with sea salt and fresh cracked black pepper -- and reduce to medium or medium low heat to prevent all that goodness from burning. Keep stirring until everything's caramalized nicely (about 20 minutes).

In the final moments of cooking, drizzle about 1/4 cup of good quality balsamic vinegar and let it reduce till it's a thick, syrupy consistency.

Remove from heat and store your compote for future use or pile it high onto crostini right then and there.

I like making quesadillas out of this compote but have also been known to slather it into a grilled cheese featuring an old white cheddar and pillowy soft white bread.

Rhubarb Quesadillas

Spread cream cheese or soft goat cheese over one half of a flour tortilla.

Spread the rhubarb compote over the cheesey side and fold the tortilla in half.

Heat the crescent mooned tortilla in a warm fry pan over medium-low heat until the outside of the tortilla is golden and the cheese is melted. You can oil the pan but I don't find it's necessary.

Top your quesadilla with sour cream mixed with chives (plain yogurt if you prefer a healthier option) and a dollop of the compote on top (if only to appreciate the crimson red of the rhubarb). A smattering of fresh cilantro wouldn't hurt either.