Skip to Content

How Much Rhubarb Can You Harvest? (And Why You Need to Be Patient)

Photo collage of rhubarb

Aside from daffodils, rhubarb is my favorite “spring is really happening” marker. When I start seeing rhubarb at the farmer’s markets, I know winter is well and truly over. (Except for that time in 2023 when we got a frost in the first week of June, but we’re going to pretend that never happened.)

Naturally, when I moved into my new place, one of the first things I did was put rhubarb in the ground.

And I quickly killed it because I committed a cardinal rhubarb-picking sin.

I’ve always been lucky to have access to a mature patch. I had no idea there were rules around harvesting newly planted rhubarb. But I know better now, and with year two underway after replacing my first murdered rhubarb, I’ve realized this is a plant you can’t rush.

rhubarb ready to be planted

With that in mind, I’ve decided to add two more plants and expand my rhubarb patch because the only thing better than fresh rhubarb in the spring is more fresh rhubarb.

Rhubarb is Worth the Wait

Rhubarb is a perennial, and like most perennials we eat, rhubarb rewards patience. If you treat it right in its early years, you’ll be harvesting for decades. But jump the gun, and you can stunt or even kill the plant before it gets going, as I found out.

So, how much rhubarb can you pick—and when?

Let’s take a look at this year-by-year, and I’ll explain why a slow and steady start pays off in the long run.

Year One – Hands Off, Friend

Rhubarb patch just coming up

You just planted your rhubarb—congrats! Let’s do a happy little rhubarb pie dance in celebration. Okay, maybe I’ll dance, and you can stand there giving me the side-eye. Whether you started with a crown or a division from a friend’s patch, that first year is all about root development.

And I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but here’s the rule for year one: no harvesting. Zero. Zilch. Nada.

Nope.

That’s because all of the plant’s energy needs to go into establishing a deep, healthy root system. (You did add well-composted manure and mycorrhizae when you planted your ‘barb, right?)

In that first year, rhubarb is busy sending out thick, strong roots. The more energy it has to put towards root development, the stronger and more productive it will be in future years.

Harvesting too early robs the plant of its leafy top growth, which it uses to photosynthesize and create energy to fuel root development. You might get a pie out of it this year, sure, but next spring, your rhubarb may not even come back. Or, as in my case, you may come out two weeks later to find a rotted stump where your rhubarb used to be.

So, in year one, admire your rhubarb from afar. Water it during dry spells. Keep it weeded. Maybe tell it stories about how it will grow up to be a delicious rhubarb custard pie one day. But no harvesting.

Year Two – Just a Taste

If your rhubarb overwintered well and came back in the spring looking like a many-headed alien, you’re now well into year two. It’s tempting to dive in and start picking, especially if your plant is putting out thick, healthy stalks.

Rhubarb just popping out of the soil
Rhubarb always looks like some alien lifeform emerging from the soil.

But let’s not get carried away—this year is still mostly about letting the plant grow strong. You’re allowed a light harvest, and I do mean light.

Pick no more than 4 to 6 stalks total over the whole season. That’s it.

Think of it as a sample—enough for a batch of stewed rhubarb to spoon over yogurt or some rhubarb muffins. Resist the urge to take more, even if it looks like the plant can spare it.

Rhubarb growing in early spring

By year two, your rhubarb’s root system will still be developing. Giving it just a little trim instead of a full haircut lets it continue building strength while giving you a taste of what’s to come.

Pro tip: Only pick stalks that are thick and mature—at least 10″ long. If your rhubarb had a rough winter, add some compost around the base and skip harvesting in year two as well. I know, but better safe than sorry.

Year Three – Now We’re Talking

This is the year you’ve been waiting for. If you’ve followed the rules, your rhubarb plant should be well-established and ready for a partial harvest.

This year, you can begin picking about one-third to one-half of the stalks over the course of the spring and early summer.

There’s actually a trick to picking rhubarb that many don’t use. But if you pick rhubarb this way, you’ll get longer stalks and encourage more growth.

Large, mature rhubarb plant

Again, keep your harvesting spread out. Don’t strip the plant bare in a single go. And continue to follow the cardinal rule: never harvest more than ⅔ of the plant at one time. It needs plenty of leafy growth to fuel itself for next year.

Think of those massive (toxic) leaves as large solar panels storing up energy. (While the leaves may be toxic, there are lots of clever ways to use them.)

Stalks should be thick, firm, and, ideally, at least as long as a butter knife before you harvest. If you’ve got a few thin stragglers by midsummer, leave them alone—they’re photosynthesizing and keeping your little solar power plant running.

You can stop harvesting around mid-to-late June, depending on your zone. After that, let the plant grow freely and prep for winter dormancy.

Year Four and Beyond – All Bets Are Off (Mostly)

Hand holding picked rhubarb stalks

Once your plant hits its fourth season and it’s clearly thriving (as in it’s filling out nicely, with no signs of stress, and putting up strong, thick stalks), you can go ahead and enjoy a full harvest during the spring picking season.

You can pick regularly from mid-to-late April through late June—again, as long as you’re leaving at least a third of the plant intact. We’ve already covered why this is important.

Don’t be afraid to pick often—just avoid overharvesting in one go. A few stalks each week is better than a big clean-out once a month.

Some folks harvest into early July, especially if their plants are exceptionally vigorous. However, my Papa Link (the original harbinger of rhubarb in our family) usually called it quits by the end of June. After that, he let plants rest and recover for the season ahead.

If you care for it well—mulch it over winter, water it in dry spells, divide when it gets crowded—your rhubarb will keep producing for 15 to 20 years.

Now, for a quick recap.

What Happens If You Overharvest Rhubarb?

Here’s the deal—rhubarb needs those big fan-like leaves. Remember, they’re basically green solar panels. Even though you don’t eat them (they’re toxic, after all), the plant relies on them for photosynthesis. When you take too many stalks, especially early in the season or early in the plant’s life, you deprive it of the ability to fuel itself.

  • An overharvested rhubarb plant might:
  • Put out thinner, weaker stalks the next year
  • Stop producing altogether
  • Die over winter due to lack of energy reserves
  • Become more susceptible to crown rot or other diseases

So, while it’s tempting to go full pie-mania when those red stalks are begging to be picked, remember—future-you will thank present-you for exercising restraint.

hand over larger rhubarb leaf

Growing rhubarb is like making a good stock or a tasty blueberry basil mead—slow wins the race. If you’re patient those first few years, you’ll be rewarded with lush, reliable harvests for seasons to come. I’m just pretending I don’t have any rhubarb for the first few years. That’s what farmer’s markets are for.

And trust me, there’s nothing sweeter than biting into a crisp, just-baked rhubarb crumble and knowing you did right by your plant.


Get the famous Rural Sprout newsletter delivered to your inbox.

Join the 50,000+ gardeners who get timely gardening tutorials, tips and tasks delivered direct to their inbox.

We respect your email privacy


Tracey Besemer

Hey there, my name is Tracey. I’m the editor-in-chief here at Rural Sprout.

Many of our readers already know me from our popular Sunday newsletters. (You are signed up for our newsletters, right?) Each Sunday, I send a friendly missive from my neck of the woods in Pennsylvania. It’s a bit like sitting on the front porch with a friend, discussing our gardens over a cup of tea.

Originally from upstate NY, I’m now an honorary Pennsylvanian, having lived here for the past 18 years.

I grew up spending weekends on my dad’s off-the-grid homestead, where I spent much of my childhood roaming the woods and getting my hands dirty.

I learned how to do things most little kids haven’t done in over a century.

Whether it was pressing apples in the fall for homemade cider, trudging through the early spring snows of upstate NY to tap trees for maple syrup, or canning everything that grew in the garden in the summer - there were always new adventures with each season.

As an adult, I continue to draw on the skills I learned as a kid. I love my Wi-Fi and knowing pizza is only a phone call away. And I’m okay with never revisiting the adventure that is using an outhouse in the middle of January.

These days, I tend to be almost a homesteader.

I take an eclectic approach to homesteading, utilizing modern convenience where I want and choosing the rustic ways of my childhood as they suit me.

I’m a firm believer in self-sufficiency, no matter where you live, and the power and pride that comes from doing something for yourself.

I’ve always had a garden, even when the only space available was the roof of my apartment building. I’ve been knitting since age seven, and I spin and dye my own wool as well. If you can ferment it, it’s probably in my pantry or on my kitchen counter. And I can’t go more than a few days without a trip into the woods looking for mushrooms, edible plants, or the sound of the wind in the trees.

You can follow my personal (crazy) homesteading adventures on Almost a Homesteader and Instagram as @aahomesteader.

Peace, love, and dirt under your nails,

Tracey