Rhubarb crown number three has gone in at the allotment. It’s not rocket science. You just dig a shallow hole, chuck in a handful of fish, blood and bone fertiliser, pop in the crown and cover its knobbly part. The growing tip sticks out of the soil, all pink like a baboon’s arse. Then it’s just a matter of waiting for the leaves to appear and you’re off. That is unless the local gang of slugs decide to have a good nibble. We’re onto them now. Our newly created beer traps should see them off in an inebriated haze.

Rhubarb meets at least one of my criterion for growing it on the allotment as it is blooming expensive to buy. That’s a bit puzzling as I’m reliably informed that it grows like a weed once established. Things might earn their place on the plot too if they are tastier than shop bought produce. Time will tell whether this is true or not.

While we wait for our plants to mature we’ve discovered a source of the good stuff. Friends left a hefty bunch in our porch the other day. We found it when we arrived home the other day. Apparently it grows like wildfire on their own allotment and they’re glad to give it away. Our next door neighbour was in her front garden when we found it so we donated some. Her kids have never tried it so she was going to stew it and see what they thought.

So what are we doing with our bounty? Hot Stuff sent me a link to a recipe for chutney. Tempting but I’ve put it on the back burner. I had only one thing in mind when I saw those lovely red tinged stem. Rhubarb crumble with ice cream is my absolute favourite pudding.

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  1. I HATE it. Have tried unsuccessfully to kill it. Dug it up, donated it (as you know) and still it grows.
    Loads of last years frozen over here if you want some x

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