Disturbing disappearances in the Rhubarb Triangle Although the plants mature in gloomy forcing sheds lit by candles, they are particularly sensitive to weather, having spent the first two years of their lives out of doors. This year's crop suffered first from the unduly wet summer of 2012 and then from last year's extended winter. It meant that when taken inside for forcing, the plants were less well developed than they ought to have been. While early rhubarb requires some warmth to make it flourish, it also needs one good hard frost before Christmas to shock it into early production. Two years ago, supplies were hit by an overly mild winter, as opposed to the rain and cold that have reduced the 2014 crop. Supermarkets can fill the gaps with imports from Holland or Germany but aficionados insist these lack the subtle delicacy of the genuine Yorkshire article. It is too soon to say whether those of us who cultivate rhubarb in our vegetable gardens or allotments are going to suffer similarly. Most of us do not force the crop in the industrial manner but wait for the first stubby shoots to appear above ground, when we place an inverted bucket on top of them. By doing so, we hope to encourage the growth of those thin, pinkish stalks that are more tender and less acid than the tough green ones that develop if the plants are left uncovered. Food shortages in the Second World War and their partial alleviation through the Dig For Victory campaign put rhubarb among the crops grown to excess - so it was not surprising to see it cast aside as more exotic fruits and vegetables became available once again. The TV chefs who encouraged its rediscovery were not the first to identify its healthful properties. In China, where it originated many thousands of years ago, it was used as a laxative. One of the first references to rhubarb in English literature was made by Shakespeare, who has Macbeth cry out for it as a purgative drug to expel his English enemies. In the 16th century, when it first reached Britain along the Silk Road, rhubarb was seen as a treatment for a variety of other ailments, too, including toothache, jaundice, gout and indigestion. It took a further 200 years for it to be recognised as a legitimate ingredient for tarts, crumbles, jams and homemade wine, even if the amount of sugar needed to render it palatable must surely compromise its health-giving qualities. The good news for rhubarb-lovers is their deprivation could be short-lived. The word from Yorkshire is that later varieties do not seem to have been affected so badly by the weather. Certainly, come March, I shall be keeping a close eye on the rhubarb patch on my allotment, bucket poised at the ready. Michael Leapman's book about his allotment, 'One Man and His Plot," first published in 1976, has been reissued by Faber Finds; www.faber.co.uk/faberfinds