I know. It’s probably the time of year. That unrequited desire for something fresh. Something a little fruity. But alas in late winter the choices are few.
It was with this vague desire I found myself wandering around down t’field in early January. Do you remember those balmy sunny days in the new year before these weeks of constant wind, rain and floods? The bees were all flying around the hives and busily looking for none existent forage, snow drops and aconites were starting to show themselves but not yet open and I was looking for something constructive to do.
As I sauntered past the greenhouse – in desperate need of repair after I clipped it whilst reversing a trailer in the dark – I spotted the rhubarb bed. The bed contains three varieties of rhubarb, the names long forgotten as I’m not organised enough to write them down and the name tags disappeared years ago. That was it. A nice little late winter job that would quickly give me a return. I’ll force some rhubarb. I shall eat fresh fruit in a matter of weeks.
Now I know the botanists and gardeners amongst you will quickly point out that rhubarb is in fact a vegetable and not a fruit at all. But lets face it, we all treat it as a fruit don’t we? None of us ever thinks we’ll serve it up on the Sunday lunch alongside the roast beef and brussels sprouts or decide to rustle up a quick meal of fish fingers, chips and rhubarb for the kids. Rhubarb for us Brits usually shows itself in a pie, crumble or tart, sometimes just stewed, but always sweet and as a desert. We might conjure up something more exotic if the recipe books or foodie magazines have been consulted but for me nothing beats a good old fashioned rhubarb crumble and custard.
Forcing rhubarb involves keeping it in the dark for a short time to force new growth earlier in the season than it would produce naturally. This is usually done in the garden by simply covering a healthy crown with a pot or even a plastic dustbin, although special terracotta forcing jars can be bought if you are the posh type.
More organised systems involve lifting crowns and taking them indoors into a dark shed. Sometimes heat is used to encourage earlier and more vigorous growth. Here in Wakefield we are in the centre of the famous ‘Rhubarb Triangle’ where around 90% of the early forced rhubarb in the UK is grown. Forcing is the main business for lots of small family farmers here. In 2010 Yorkshire Forced Rhubarb was awarded Protected Designation of Origin (PDO) by the EU. If you’re ever travelling north on the M1 motorway towards Leeds have a glance to the left between junctions 41 and 42 where you will see fields of rhubarb crowns dotted with the forcing sheds that they are transplanted into during the winter.
For me though a simple pot is the order of the day. A quick look around and I find a large earthenware pot that had recently been vacated by a dead acer palmatum, an unfortunate victim of my busyness the previous year when I forgot to water it in the heat of the summer. After clearing leaves and debris from around the crown I spread a little compost on the surface of the soil and placed the up ended pot over it, followed by a piece of paving to block out the light from the drain hole. That is it. It can now be forgotten for a few weeks whilst nature works it’s magic.
It’s worth remembering a crown should never be forced two seasons in a row. After forcing it will need some time to recover. It should be allowed to put on growth and leaves to feed itself by photosynthesis (and a dressing of manure will always benefit your rhubarb – forced or not) over the summer. If picked at all in summer it should only be picked lightly. It is easy to exhaust a crown if overworked. Two or three crowns in your rhubarb bed will allow you to rotate forcing over 2-3 years.
Going back to the bed last week I lifted to pot and found that I indeed had a number of 300 – 400mm stalks ready for picking. I quick twist and tug at the base to harvest before replacing the pot to grow a few more and I could think about what to do with them.
Unlike summer rhubarb the stems of forced rhubarb are much paler. They are not as fibrous so tend to ‘drop’ more when cooking. They are also much sweeter so be careful when sweetening.
I decided to lightly stew mine. After removing the poisonous leaves and roughly chopping the stalks they are dropped in a pan. Just a touch of water added to prevent burning on the pan bottom and just a few minutes on a low heat and they’re cooked. I sweetened mine with a little of our own honey and allowed it to cool. I decided to call it rhubarb compote when I told Chelle as it sounds posher.
My packed lunches for work for the next week included a desert of fat free Greek yoghurt in a Tupperware tub with my rhubarb compote over it. A rare treat of homegrown produce February.
Life is good.
