R H U B A R B
anecdotes of a spring harbinger
In New England, folks have been known to veer to the side of the road at the sight of a lush rhubarb patch. I swear I’m not the only one!
Here at V Smiley Preserves, we source our annual stock (stalk?) from multiple folks including our own Lil’ To Do Farm.
As a celebration of this hot pink produce, we asked three VSP friends to share their rhubarb stories.
Omar & His Rhubarb
We source a lot of our produce from Omar, including rhubarb every spring. He claims his plants needs more attention from him. So we had a quick chat on the phone about growing and tending to them…
First thing Omar says is “I’m remiss on my rhubarb plants.” Because of demand, he harvests heavily every spring—and it shows. “Every year they are smaller and producing slower,” he shared. “V calls me in May to ask how my rhubarb is because she’s seeing it pop up elsewhere. And I have to tell her they aren’t ready yet.” (We literally had this exact conversation yesterday via text.)
A neighbor up the hill has an abundance of rhubarb. Two massive clumps that grow three times the size of his own. And she doesn’t harvest them, so she loses nothing by letting Omar harvest off the plants. Which he’s been doing for the last couple of years. A couple of Omar’s own plants were even gifted by her when she divided the rhubarb crowns. She also has a plum tree on her property that Omar tends to for her, so they have a fair neighborly exchange sorted out.
Omar plans to tend to his rhubarb more…maybe not harvest them as much this year. Or plant more because he does have the “heavy nasty soil rhubarb does well with.” In the end, we both agreed that his late bloomers might be extending the rhubarb season for VSP—a pleasant silver lining.
Rhubarb at Lil’ To Do Farm
Next up, I chatted with my mom, Susan, about the origination of rhubarb at the farm and how she sees modern cultivars like super red rhubarb becoming the fashion.
“Your father was passionate about rhubarb and he planted a LOT of it at the beginning when we moved onto the farm in the 70s,” Susan began to weave the history of rhubarb at Lil’ To Do Farm, the household farm for VSP. My mom thought they planted too much.
At that time, my mom and dad market-gardened (selling vegetables mostly), but the rhubarb appeared amongst the farmstand offerings when you stopped by the farm on River Road. At that culinary moment in time (1970s-90s), there was more rhubarb supply than rhubarb demand.
It wasn't until I came home with VSP and started to heavily harvest and suddenly we needed ALL of it. Susan continued, “we had surplus rhubarb, and we didn't have modern cultivars. There's been a lot of breeding and fashion played by restaurants and kitchens into creating really, really red rhubarb. “None of it is modern at Lil' To Do Farm,” Susan adds. “Many of our plants have speckled green stalks, and I admit to wishing they were the fashionable red. The ideal rhubarb concept has certainly caught on.”
Nowadays, Susan manages 6 or 8 clumps around the house. She’s always been assiduous about cutting the flower stalks to keep the quality of the plants up. Although, she does have a pension for the flowering ones, “the ones that do flower turn into peacocks—they are gorgeous! I'd like to put one where I can just let it flower and enjoy that.” What an idea!
Finding A New Home
Christine discovered a rogue rhubarb plant embedded in the woods that line the back yard of the home she rents with her family. While gloriously large, it was very poorly situated…
Situated amongst a very healthy patch of poison ivy (with a husband who is severely allergic) and a toddler who insists on helping with all tasks, the rhubarb thrived and never got harvested.
This spring, when the poison ivy hadn’t yet sprung, Christine performed some plant surgery, splitting apart and then transplanting her rhubarb crowns at the edge of the lawn.
A couple weeks later, new leaves unfolded. Success! Christine’s toddler likes to check in on the plants and pat soil along their roots. A budding gardener for sure.
Rhubarb Flavors We Love
