Are Celery And Rhubarb Related

Picture this: you’re at a party, munching on a crisp celery stick. Suddenly, your friend leans in and whispers, “Did you know celery and rhubarb are cousins?” You freeze. Is this a botanical bombshell or just a veggie conspiracy theory? Let’s settle this once and for all, with the juicy truth and a few bad puns along the way.

The Short Answer: It’s Complicated (Like a Reality TV Show)

No, celery and rhubarb are not directly related. They’re more like distant acquaintances who happen to work in the same office—the office of edible stalks. Celery is a member of the Apiaceae family, which includes carrots, parsley, and dill. Rhubarb? It’s in the Polygonaceae family, rubbing shoulders with buckwheat and sorrel.

Think of it this way: if plant families were high school cliques, celery would hang with the herb nerds, and rhubarb would be the goth kid obsessed with sour candy. They might nod at each other in the cafeteria, but they’re not swapping lunch recipes.

Why Everyone Assumes They’re Cousins

Let’s be real—they look like twins separated at birth. Both have long, crunchy stalks that scream, “Dip me in peanut butter!” But appearances are deceitful little rascals. Celery stalks are actually leaf stems (called petioles), while rhubarb stalks are technically the leaf stalks too, but the leaves themselves are poisonous. Yeah, rhubarb leaves are toxic—so don’t try to make a salad out of them unless you want to meet your maker.

Here’s a truly wild fact: rhubarb is a vegetable (legally speaking), but it’s almost always used like a fruit in recipes. That’s because it’s so tart, it needs sugar to be edible. Celery, meanwhile, is just a crunchy, watery disappointment if you forget the ranch dressing. See? Totally different personalities.

Botanical Family Feud: Apiaceae vs. Polygonaceae

The Apiaceae family (celery’s crew) is famous for umbrella-shaped flower clusters—think dill, fennel, and that parsley that always gets left on restaurant plates. These plants are usually aromatic and herbaceous. In contrast, Polygonaceae (rhubarb’s tribe) has swollen nodes on its stems (hence the name “knotweed family”). It’s also the family of buckwheat, which means rhubarb is more closely related to your gluten-free pancakes than to celery.

So next time someone says, “Rhubarb is just sour celery,” you can pity them for their ignorance. Feel free to drop this bombshell: “Actually, rhubarb is a thug from the knotweed gang, while celery is a delicate herb that faints at the sight of frost.” Okay, I made that last part up, but it sounds dramatic.

The Taste Test: Crunch vs. Pucker

Bite into celery, and you get a mild, watery, almost apologetic crunch. It’s the friend who always says, “Is this okay?” Rhubarb, on the other hand, is a sour punk that slaps your taste buds and demands respect. That’s because rhubarb is loaded with oxalic acid—the same stuff found in spinach and, fun fact, rust remover. Don’t worry, eating rhubarb won’t turn you into a rusty car, but it might make your face pucker like you just bit a lemon.

Celebrity rhubarb is almost always cooked with sugar, while celery is often eaten raw. Historical twist: in the 19th century, rhubarb was so trendy that people grew it in special forcing sheds to get it extra pink, calling it “champagne rhubarb.” Celery never got a fancy nickname—it just became the official snack of boring office parties.

The Surprising Connection (Yes, There Is One)

Okay, I teased you—let’s give a little nod to their shared heritage. Both celery and rhubarb are herbaceous perennials, meaning they die back in winter and regrow from their roots. They both love cool weather and go to seed if you let them get too hot—a trait botanists call “bolting,” which sounds like what happens when you tell a toddler to calm down.

But here’s the real kicker: they both belong to the Caryophyllales order, a massive group of flowering plants. That’s like saying they live in the same country—but celery is from the French Alps (Apiaceae) and rhubarb is from a weird little island off Japan (Polygonaceae). They aren’t swapping holiday photos.

What About Genetics? Inbreeding Jokes Ahead

If you sequenced their DNA, you’d find they’re about as different as a human and a penguin. Celery has 11 chromosomes, rhubarb has 22. That’s not even close enough to arrange a botanical blind date. In fact, rhubarb is a polyploid, meaning it has extra copies of its genome—almost like it’s carrying a genetic backup drive. Celery is simpler, like a post-it note compared to rhubarb’s encyclopedia.

Could they ever crossbreed? Absolutely not. That would be like trying to cross a potato with a giraffe. The universe would laugh at you.

Final Verdict: Friends, Not Family

So, are celery and rhubarb related? Only in the way that you and your third cousin twice removed are related—technically, but you never call each other. They share a distant order, but different families, tastes, and personalities. Celery is the introverted office worker; rhubarb is the punk rocker who shows up to pie parties.

Next time you see them together at the farmers' market, give them a little nod. They’re vegetable-coded for the same aesthetic, but ultimately on separate botanical journeys. And if anyone tells you otherwise, just hand them a rhubarb stalk raw and watch them cry. That’s science.