Rhubarb is definitely a Grandma ingredient. Unfortunately, I've never felt too friendly with it. I'd eat it, somewhat begrudgingly, as a kid. When I grew up a little more and could pick and choose, I deliberately avoided it. It was red, weird, crunchy, and sort of bitter.
Why are people attracted to this? That question ran through my head every time the family flocked around grandma's rhubarb meringue pie, or whatever else she had concocted with her garden's abundance. I'd shrug my shoulders and go for the cookie jar and juice, cringing slightly at the purple reddish vegetables on everyone's plates.