Herb That Smells Like Liquorice

Let’s talk about an herb that thinks it’s a candy shop reject. I’m talking about tarragon, the green, leafy troublemaker that smells exactly like black licorice. You know, that polarizing scent that makes half the room go “Mmm, memories of red vines!” and the other half recoil like you just waved a sulfur stick under their nose. If you’ve ever wondered why your salad tastes like a Twizzler factory exploded, you’ve met tarragon.

Wait, It’s Not Just a Weird French Thing?

Oh, it so is, but in the best way possible. Tarragon is a staple in French cuisine, where it’s considered one of the “fines herbes” — basically the A-list celebrity team of parsley, chive, and chervil. But tarragon is the rebellious one that shows up to the awards ceremony wearing a black leather jacket and reeking of anise. Chefs use it to elevate chicken, eggs, and fish from “meh” to “Mon Dieu!” in about ten seconds flat.

Fun fact: there are actually two main types. French tarragon is the good stuff—rich, complex, and sterile (yes, it can’t make seeds, so it has to be cloned by cuttings). Then there’s Russian tarragon, which is like the bargain-bin cousin: it grows like a weed but tastes like grass that heard about licorice once. Avoid it unless you’re feeling masochistic.

Why Does It Smell Like That? Chemistry, Baby.

Blame a compound called estragole. It’s the same chemical that makes anise, fennel, and that one Jelly Belly you always pick out taste like a black jellybean nightmare. Your brain basically gets tricked into thinking you’re eating candy when you’re actually eating a leafy green. It’s like Mother Nature playing a practical joke on your taste buds.

Tarragon also contains a dash of methyl chavicol, which sounds like a villain from a sci-fi movie but is really just a molecule that cranks the licorice dial up to eleven. One whiff and you’ll either start craving a Good & Plenty or run for the hills. There’s no middle ground—it’s the cilantro of the anise world.

The Wildest Thing Tarragon Has Ever Done

Ancient Greeks used to chew tarragon leaves to numb their mouths before dental work. Yes, really. It’s a natural anesthetic, which means if you ever run out of Novocain, just raid your spice rack. I’m not saying you should perform your own root canal with a tarragon chaser, but if you do, send me a video. (Warning: it also tastes like angry black licorice, so you’ll be numb and emotionally confused.)

Plant That Smells Like Licorice: The Secret Behind Licorice Smell – GFL

And get this: in medieval times, people thought tarragon could ward off dragons. Seriously. They believed the scent was so potent that it would drive mythical beasts away. I can only assume the dragons were just like, “Ugh, that smell again? I’m out.” Today, we know it doesn’t work on reptiles, but it does confuse your neighbors when you grill chicken on the patio and they catch a whiff of what smells like a candy store on fire.

How to Use This Madness (Without Ruining Dinner)

First, don’t treat it like basil. Tarragon is not a pile-it-on herb. It’s a diva. A little goes a long way, otherwise your sauce will taste like you dumped a bottle of Jägermeister into it. Use it fresh if you can—dried tarragon is okay, but it loses that loud, in-your-face character and becomes more of a whispery, hay-like version of itself.

Pair it with chicken, fish, eggs, or butter. The classic move is a tarragon béarnaise sauce, which is basically hollandaise that went to finishing school in Paris. Also, toss it into a simple vinaigrette: olive oil, white wine vinegar, a pinch of salt, and a teaspoon of chopped fresh tarragon. Suddenly your boring salad tastes like something a French aristocrat would eat while ignoring the peasants.

10 Herbs That Taste Like Licorice (And How to Use Them in Your Kitchen)

The Surprising Party Trick

Tarragon vinegar is a thing, and it’s incredible. Just stuff a bunch of fresh tarragon sprigs into a bottle of white wine vinegar, let it sit for two weeks, and boom—you have a salad dressing base that tastes like a secret handshake. It also makes an amazing marinade for lamb, because apparently even sheep like to pretend they’re candy.

And if you’re feeling really adventurous, steep tarragon in hot milk to make a weirdly delicious herbal latte. No, I’m not kidding. It’s like a chai latte that got swapped at birth with a black jellybean. You will either love it or call the police.

Final Verdict: Embrace the Weird

So here’s the deal: tarragon is not for everyone. It’s the herb that walks into a party and says, “I smell like red licorice, deal with it.” And you know what? You should deal with it. Because once you get past the initial olfactory shock, you realize it’s one of the most versatile, elegant, and joyfully absurd plants in your kitchen. It’s a dragon-fighter, a tooth-numbed, a culinary show-off—and it hides in plain sight next to the rosemary.

Next time you see a jar of dried tarragon at the store, pick it up. Give it a sniff. And when your friend says, “Why does that smell like a gas station candy aisle?” just smile and say, “Because dragons are afraid of it, Susan.” Then go make some killer chicken. You’re welcome.