Rhubarb: wallflower of spring

Jeff Green | May 27, 2010

Editorial by Jeff Green

We are in the midst of a gardening season such as we have not seen in years. The hot weather in early spring has put gardens two weeks ahead of normal years.

Every year we plant such early season stalwarts as spinach and lettuce in the cold ground and watch them come up ever so slowly through April and May, only to have them bolt in the June sun. But this year, the labels on the seed packets that say “24 days to harvest” have been accurate, and here we are at the end of May, rushing tomatoes and peppers into the ground and watching squash plants leaf out as if it were late July. Now we must worry about water, the early onset of potato bugs, aphids, and all the rest of it, and weeds and groundhogs are already starting to battle it out to see which one will destroy our gardens.

Meanwhile, in a forgotten corner, away from all this mad planting and watering, the rhubarb patch is flourishing as it always does. Never affected by cold or hot weather, not particularly susceptible to drought or flooding, the rhubarb produces long tart stalks year in and year out.

There is nothing simpler than cooking rhubarb.

Chip three or four stalks into pieces. Any size will do. Add a tiny bit of water to a pot. Throw in the rhubarb and maple syrup and heat for ten minutes. That's it.

But do we appreciate this obliging plant? Are there rhubarb days at Tim Horton's? Will there be rhubarb socials come the end of June?

No. June belongs to strawberries, one of the most fickle of all garden plants.

Strawberries don't like too much or too little water. They spread throughout the garden from year to year, requiring a whole lot of planning from gardeners, and they need to be weeded almost constantly. And for all that effort, once every few years they produce a few delicious berries that are very popular with squirrels and chipmunks.

But we go crazy for strawberries.

If strawberries and rhubarb were children visiting their aging parents in a seniors’ home, rhubarb would be the child who visits every day year in year out and gets taken for granted, and strawberries would be the child who comes once every three months and gets all kinds of attention.

I say cook up all the rhubarb this year. Eat it every night until you can't eat it anymore and freeze or jam up the rest. And let the rhubarb feel the love a little bit.

And, ok, if you must, make up a few strawberry rhubarb pies when the strawberries come into season.

And while you are eating bowls of berries with cream or short cake, don't make too much of a fuss.

The rhubarb may be listening, and it has feelings too.