From my own test kitchen!

One of the things I love most about my job is the ability to be creative every day. But being a professional recipe developer does not mean you get to cook whatever you want. Don't like anchovies? Too bad if puttanesca is on the list to be tackled. Don't care for blue cheese? That burger you've been assigned is a bacon blue cheese burger, you know, with the extra stinky kind of blue cheese. Yikes. In my kitchen, I decide the menu and often end up treating it just like a test kitchen. Here is a recent experiment I worked on to give an idea of how a recipe developer's mind works, or at least my mind:
I recently came into some leftover rhubarb, a handful of underwhelming strawberries, and two Meyer lemons which had been dezested (I call them bald citrus). I couldn't decide what to make: Meyer lemon pudding or panna cotta with strawberry rhubarb compote, a tart or pie (I also had some cream cheese for a pie dough recipe I like), a simple pot of preserves for breakfast? Then it hit me what I truly wanted. A no-fuss, tasty dessert: strawberry rhubarb crisp.
After a bit of research and a look through my cabinets I decided on a game plan. I was going to macerate the sad berries in a bit of red wine and sugar to enhance their berry-ness, toss with the rhubarb, Meyer lemon juice, sugar, flour, vanilla, salt and a pinch of black pepper to play into the flavor notes of the red wine. The topping was going to be my favorite kind: a crumbly sweet mix of oats, sugar, flour, cinnamon, and, of course, butter.
After securing the right size baking dish and giving it a healthy rub of softened butter I was ready to get this crisp in the oven. I faced a few last minute questions as I began to toss the elements of the filling together. Should I drain the strawberries or use the macerating liquid? If I used the liquid, did I need to double my flour? Erring on the side of a juicy, rather than dry, crisp, I added the liquid and just slightly increased my flour. Nothing is worse than a gummily thickened fruit filling. I also had a pause as I was about to add the black pepper. Was this only a good idea in my head? I decided it was better to find out and tossed it in.
45 minutes later, I had a gorgeous bubbling crisp:

Overall the dessert was delicious and it did not even make it 24 hours in my 2 person house. Here are my tasting notes: the fruit filling was a little looser than I would have liked and I probably should have doubled my flour. Especially because I was glad to have included the winey macerated liquid, which gave the dessert a rich flavor. The black pepper was a back note, but it was definitely there and I'm not sure next time I'd put it in. I couldn't decide if I really liked it or not, a feeling that usually means it does not belong. The topping, the proportions of which I borrowed from an old Gourmet recipe, was a little too sweet, especially because the rhubarb I had was not that tart and the Meyer lemons are also not as sour as a regular lemon.
It ended up being a tasty dessert for a blustery night and another good learning experience from my test kitchen.