Cilantro, Love It or Hate It!

Cilantro takes the spotlight

Coriander is native to the Mediterranean region, some 10,000 kilometers from Taiwan. In Mediterranean nations such as Türkiye, people mostly grind coriander seeds into powder to enhance the flavor of their food. In Taiwan, however, fresh cilantro leaves and stems are finely chopped to deliver a vibrant herbaceous kick.

A dash of minced green cilantro adds a fresh herbal flavor to Taiwanese bah-uân (rouyuan) meat dumplings, savory rice cakes, and vermicelli soup. When pig’s-blood cake is drizzled with sauce and coated in peanut powder, eating it with cilantro is a match made in heaven. And cilantro is an essential finishing touch for peanut ice cream rolls and runbing fresh rolls enjoyed at Qingming Festival.

Although mothers are given to scold children who play with their food, products centered around cilantro have been playfully springing up in Taiwan in recent years, providing taste experiments with a creative and mischievous bent.

The craze began in Beidou, Changhua County—the true “hometown of cilantro” in Taiwan.

Yen Yu-jen, a young farmer known as “Mr. Coriander,” whose family has grown the herb in Beidou for three generations, founded the Beidou Cilantro Production Cooperative. By developing cilantro powder and creating cilantro dry-tossed noodles, he has opened up a world of possibilities for cilantro.

Collaboration with the nearby Fong Siang Cafe allowed the cooperative to pioneer cilantro drinks in Taiwan. From cilantro coffee to cilantro macarons, mooncakes, and chocolate, the herb is no longer just a supporting player. It has instead come under the spotlight to take a leading role in creative new food products.

Zhuang Junsheng used the cilantro powder developed by “Mr. Coriander” (Yen Yu-jen) to create cilantro coffee. Originally planned as a two-week special at his Fong Siang Cafe, the drink unexpectedly turned into one of the shop’s most popular items.

As customers’ cilantro-crazed wish lists have grown, so has Zhuang continued to experiment—putting the herb into everything from “pineapple buns” and pineapple cakes to nama chocolate and “dirty choco buns.”

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Zhuang Junsheng, the founder of Fong Siang, says with a laugh: “I only planned to sell cilantro coffee for two weeks, and never remotely expected that I would still be offering it nine years later.” Before launch, he had his doubts and even made a special trip to a temple to seek guidance from the goddess Mazu. Only after successive throws of divination blocks came up positive did he officially start adding cilantro to coffee.

The cilantro craze has continued to spread. Chen Ying-sheng, director general of the Beidou Township Farmers’ Association, led his team to develop a series of cilantro products. They started with cilantro dumplings and then followed with cilantro pork buns, cilantro soybean-paste noodles (zha jiang mian), cilantro scallion pancakes, and cilantro bah-uân. This year, they even collaborated with the iconic brand Kuai Kuai, a maker of Cheeto-­like corn snacks, to launch a cilantro-flavored version that triggered an immediate buying frenzy.

Various cilantro-flavored versions of steak, beef noodles, egg tarts, milk tea, Doritos, and sun cakes have popped up in the market one after another. From main courses to desserts to street snacks, they may sound at times like an April Fool’s joke. But they are in fact creative new foods, part of a culinary free-for-all that has helped cilantro to turn over a new leaf.

Turning produce into products, Chen Ying-sheng, director-general of the Beidou Township Farmers’ Association, has led his team in reimagining cilantro. The campaign has created new income opportunities for local farmers and helped showcase the town and its distinct character to more people.

Expanding flavor horizons, the Beidou Township Farmers’ Association has made cilantro a star ingredient in a range of creative food products—from scallion pancakes, jiaozi dumplings, and bah-uân dumplings to black rice puffs and Cheeto-like Kuai Kuai puffs.

An herbal origins story

Chen explains: “Seventy percent of Taiwan’s cilantro comes from Beidou, where the area currently under cultivation spans around 300 hectares.”

Cilantro can be grown year-round and is typically ready for harvest in about 40‡50 days. But yields are lower during the sweltering summer months, and the plant does poorly with heavy rains. From November to March, when prices are lower, the farmers’ association takes the opportunity to purchase cilantro in bulk and process it into freeze-dried cilantro powder.

“When you process 100 kilograms, you only end up with eight kilos of product,” notes Chen. “The cost is actually very high.” Located in Central Taiwan, Beidou possesses the ideal climatic conditions to grow crisp cilantro with a rich aroma and tender texture, making it the most important center of cilantro production in all of Taiwan.

Overgrown cilantro stalks are a secret local specialty. (courtesy of Beidou Township Farmers’ Association)

Little-known herbal gems

Driving to the cilantro fields, the young farmer Hsu Ting-yu explains that cilantro, with its pungent, spicy aroma, rarely suffers from pest infestations.

The tastiest season for cilantro is actually winter. In Beidou, the stalks are even used in a “secret” seasonal delicacy. Farmers let the stalks grow taller and thicker until they reach the thickness of a pinky finger. After peeling away the tough outer fibers, they are stir-fried with shredded meat or simply sautéed on their own. Both versions are delicious.

With no shredded meat or stove in sight, we simply peel away the fibers and pop a small segment directly into our mouths. “Wow, it’s so sweet!” The rich flavor is even more intense than the leaves. If you visit Beidou in the winter, this is a dish that is absolutely worth trying.

With creative food products all the rage in Taiwan, cilantro has long evolved beyond its role as a mere garnish. It carries the unique terroir of Beidou’s soil while reflecting the culinary creativity and playfulness of the Taiwanese people.

That familiar dash of green atop so many Taiwanese dishes was often grown in Changhua’s Beidou Township. The sight of farmers tending their fields of cilantro is part and parcel of local life there.