BOTANICAL NAME: Rheum rhabarbarum
FAMILY: Polygonaceae
Medical rhubarb was known in the West since the Middle Ages. It was one of several species of rhubarb imported as a dry root from central Asia and commonly employed as a laxative. This should serve as a reminder that all parts of the rhubarb plant are toxic. The species of rhubarb raised for culinary purposes is also toxic, except in the stems. This fact was not generally known in Europe until the middle of the eighteenth century, although there were English plant collectors growing culinary rhubarb as early as the 1730s.
That rhubarb looked very much like Early Champagne, especially its distinctive leaves and gooseberry-green stems. The taste of that first kitchen garden rhubarb was so similar to gooseberries that the English quickly adapted it to gooseberry recipes, including gooseberry champagne. The English are still great connoisseurs of rhubarb. Most gardeners in this country satisfy themselves with just one rhubarb bed, but I have three. One is planted with Victoria (page 248) due to its huge productivity; another is planted with my grandfather’s strawberry rhubarb, which remains quite succulent well into the summer. The third bed is planted with Early Champagne, a variety that became popular in England during the 1850s. With its green stems, it is totally different from the other two, and it is likely to burst up through the snow on a warm day in February. It is cold hardy and the earliest of any rhubarb I have grown. During dry spells in midsummer it dies back, only to revive in September so that I have yet another crop in the fall. This cyclical cropping is a pleasure for anyone who loves rhubarb, but it is doubly so for those who like to make preserves.
I have already likened the flavor of Early Champagne to gooseberries, but unlike gooseberries it is a lot easier to grow, especially in warm, humid areas of the country. Its greenness is a plus when used in combination with sweet apples, pineapples, mangoes, or even greengage plums. The secret to using rhubarb, as Mrs. C. F. Leyel pointed out in her The Complete Jam Cupboard, is not to overpower the taste. Certain fruits enhance it; others do not. White currants are doubtless the most successful in this respect, and I would recommend either Witte Perle (white pearl), a Dutch heirloom variety from the 1600s, or the large-fruited French heirloom called White Versailles, introduced in the 1860s. The juice of these fruits may also be employed in making this rhubarb’s namesake: early champagne. Yes—crush it, cook it with spring water, mix this half and half with white currant juice, add sugar, and ferment. Once it clarifies, bottle up with a raisin or two, and cork down tight. You will soon have champagne as light and frisky as Veuve Cliquot.