Tickled pink: rhubarb growers see explosion in demand for Yorkshire crop | Food

It takes a while for the eyes to adjust to the darkness inside the shed. Slowly, the shapes of hundreds of pale stalks emerge from the gloom like an alien species, visible only by the glow cast by a handful of candles.

This candlelit ritual is the harvest of Yorkshire forced rhubarb, being carried out by growers Robert and Paula Tomlinson.

While these methods have not changed in 150 years, the unusual crop is seeing a huge rise in popularity, with Tesco last week reporting a doubling in sales compared to last year.

The Tomlinsons’ farm in Pudsey, Leeds, lies inside the rhubarb triangle, an area of West Yorkshire known for this unique product, grown in large sheds. “It’s grown in the dark and we harvest it by candlelight,” says Robert.

The warmth inside the shed means forced rhubarb is harvested during the winter and early spring, and the absence of light leads to a substantial difference between the rhubarb grown in an allotment and this sweet, vivid pink vegetable.

“We cut out the photosynthesis. So there’s no chlorophyll in there and the sugar stays in the stick rather than going into the leaves,” he says. “Outdoor rhubarb can be really acidic and stringy, whereas this is a completely different crop. And you can have it for three or four months of the year, and that’s it.”

The farm has been in his family since 1880 and some of the varieties he grows are descended from those grown by Robert’s great-grandfather.

Gesturing to some early rhubarb growing in a field outside the sheds, he says: “We call this the ‘new’ variety because we’ve only had it since the 70s.”

That was a time when the UK seemed to turn its back on rhubarb, as interest waned when out-of-season fruit began to be routinely imported from abroad. The resurgence in the past couple of decades is partly as a result of an appreciation for fresh seasonal produce and traditional British food, with rhubarb gins, sodas and preserves all becoming more commonplace.

More recently, the blushing satiny finish of the vegetable has lent itself incredibly well to being photographed for social media.

Thea Everett, a London-based food writer who publishes the popular What’s That You’re Cooking, Thea? newsletter, says: “As someone who loves to cook, I think its tartness and acidity mean it is a brilliant partner for sweeter flavours and bakes, which can be such a pick-me-up at this time of year.”

She created a recipe for an aesthetically pleasing malted milk and rhubarb cheesecake in celebration of a seasonal ingredient that she loves.

“I think its vibrant colour in the depths of winter grey is key to its popularity, and a big reason we all love to see it come out to play on Instagram,” Everett says. “Also, the fact that alongside figs and blood oranges, forced rhubarb is still really a seasonal vegetable that you have to wait for.”

She has to travel an hour or two from her home in south-east London to get hold of Yorkshire forced rhubarb – “I once ran 15km there and back for the cause” – because a lot of it is reserved for restaurant menus.

“Despite being from the UK, it’s bloody hard to find!” she says.

And it could be about to get more difficult. Wet weather has played havoc on yields this year and looking to the future there are other hurdles too.

“A lot of growers are retiring age, or past that, with no one to take it on,” says Robert. But there are signs that younger people are becoming passionate about the crop.

A video filmed at the Tomlinsons’ farm by some Manchester chefs got 6m views on social media last year. “It was just mental,” Robert says.

Last weekend, the city of Wakefield celebrated its annual rhubarb festival with music, stalls and a “rhu-bar”, a sign of how beloved it is in this part of the world.

The word also seems to be getting out farther afield – Tomlinson Yorkshire forced rhubarb now features on menus across the globe, and demand is only increasing. “The old boys all those years ago would have never believed their rhubarb would be on menus from top chefs in New York and Paris,” he says.

“I still can’t believe it myself, to be fair.”