Candlelit Fields in the Rhubarb Triangle
In a shed in Stanley, West Yorkshire, Jason works by candlelight.
Not out of nostalgia, but by necessity. In a forcing shed, light is the one thing that cannot be allowed in. The rhubarb growing in the darkness has been tricked into believing Spring has arrived. Any daylight would break the spell.
This is forced rhubarb. And within the small pocket of land between Leeds, Wakefield and Bradford known as the Rhubarb Triangle, it remains one of the most singular agricultural traditions still practised in Britain.
The process begins years before harvest. Small rhubarb root cuttings are planted in open fields and left to grow actively through summer, then to rest dormant through winter. This cycle repeats for two full years. In that second winter, when the roots are fully dormant, they are lifted from the fields and brought into the forcing sheds. The doors are shut. The light is gone entirely. The heat goes on.
Jason Cook, who farms with his family in Stanley, describes what happens next with the quiet precision of someone who has watched it many times:
"That tricks it into thinking spring has started. In about a month's time, we've got a proper rhubarb ready to harvest."
Jason is a fifth-generation custodian of this craft. At its height, more than 200 growers farmed the Triangle, supplying London markets and beyond. Today, only a handful of families continue — preserving not just a technique, but a deeper understanding of what the land, in the right conditions, can produce.
Those conditions matter. Stanley sits in what Jason describes as a frost pocket — an area that drops to lower temperatures earlier than the surrounding region. That frost, applied to the roots in the second year, is what makes forcing possible. Without it, the roots cannot be brought inside. With it, the Cook family can begin the process sooner than almost anyone else.
The result is a rhubarb that tastes nothing like the robust, tart stalks of the outdoor variety. Forced rhubarb is tender, sweet, and delicate in a way that is, as Jason puts it, "completely different to anything else, any other crop."
Jason's rhubarb is woven into the delicate heart of our Spring Gin. Cold distilled at our still in Kensal Green — at its own temperature and pressure — to carry the unique character that two years of growing and a month of darkness have produced into the glass exactly as it left the shed.
Forced rhubarb cannot be rushed. Neither can the spirit it becomes.
Patience Spring Gin 2026 is available now in a limited release of 100 hand-numbered bottles. Each number is yours to choose.