Christmas morning, calm and peaceful. The house smells of cinnamon and gingerbread cooling on the counter. On the living room table, a bowl of sweets awaits visitors: chocolates, caramels, and then… those black candies, the most polarizing of all. Some guests greedily pounce on them as soon as they arrive. Others take a three-meter detour to avoid the bowl.
Try this test with people around you: ask them what licorice is. You’ll get a variety of answers, such as “it’s anise, right?”, “a type of fennel?”, or my favorite, “uh… a ‘black’ flavor?”
The truth? Except for the “black flavor,” these people are both right and wrong: yes, these plants taste a bit similar, but botanically speaking, they have absolutely nothing to do with licorice!
Let’s sort this out, one plant at a time. Welcome to the deliciously confusing and surprisingly defensive world of flavors that taste like licorice!
Real licorice: a root that tastes like candy
This plant is called licorice, or Glycyrrhiza glabra—even its Latin name means “sweet root” in Greek. It is a perennial plant in the legume family (yes, like beans!), and it is its yellowish root that becomes our famous black candy.
I don’t know about you, but I love its style!
Licorice grows naturally in Southern Europe, the Middle East, and Western Asia. It can grow up to 1.5 meters tall with pretty little purple flowers. But it’s underground where the magic happens: its roots develop an impressive network, sometimes extending over several meters.
The secret to its taste? A compound called glycyrrhizin, which is between 30 and 50 times sweeter than white sugar. Some sources even say 170 times! That’s why real licorice has such a distinctive taste: super sweet and slightly bitter.
A plant that made history
Licorice has fascinated humanity for thousands of years and across several continents. There is evidence of its use dating back to 2100 BCE. When archaeologists opened Tutankhamun’s tomb in 1922, among the gold and jewels, they found huge quantities of licorice roots! The young pharaoh decided that this root deserved to be taken with him to the afterlife. The Egyptians used it to make a sweet drink called “Mai Sus,” which can still be enjoyed in Egypt today!
In China, licorice has been used in traditional medicine for over 1,000 years—it is still the second most widely used plant after ginseng!
From root to candy
In the 11th century, English monks brought licorice roots back from the Middle East and planted them around Pontefract, Yorkshire. The soil was so perfect that the plant thrived magnificently, and the English loved this delicious plant with its many virtues, so demand exploded! Centuries later, when the harvests required huge storage spaces, the authorities rented Pontefract Castle—the same medieval castle that had imprisoned King Richard II—to store the roots. The dungeons now served as a licorice warehouse!
During this same period, in 1760, an apothecary had the brilliant idea of adding sugar to medicinal licorice, creating the famous Pontefract Cakes—small black discs stamped with the castle’s seal. These candies became so iconic that in 1872, their stamp was even used to seal the very first secret ballot box in the United Kingdom!
Today, modern science has proven what our ancestors already knew: licorice has real anti-inflammatory, antibacterial, and antiviral properties. It’s a great ally for colds and sore throats—some syrups and teas, such as SOS Throat at David’s Tea, even contain licorice!
The impostors
Most licorice candies in North America do not contain real licorice for two reasons: the cost of cultivation and extraction, and potential toxicity when consumed in very large quantities. In Europe, particularly in Scandinavian countries, the Netherlands, and Finland, there are still many candies containing real licorice.
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But here’s where it gets really interesting: just because licorice isn’t approved by the FDA (U.S. Food and Drug Administration) doesn’t mean that the flavor in candy is necessarily fake! There are THREE other plants that taste like licorice without actually being licorice. Allow me to introduce them to you:
Anise (Pimpinella anisum)
A small annual plant of the Apiaceae family, the same family as parsley and carrots (the plant looks very similar, in fact)! Its small brownish seeds contain an essential oil composed of 80-95% anethole, another compound that gives it its famous “licorice” taste.
Fennel (Foeniculum vulgare)
A perennial plant, also from the Apiaceae family, which produces a crunchy white bulb, feathery leaves, and tastes like… guess what? Licorice! Again, thanks to anethole, which makes up 50 to 80% of its essential oil. (It’s not a very popular vegetable, but they put it in everything on MasterChef Australia!)
Star anise (Illicium verum)
This one comes from the Magnoliaceae family(!) and grows in China. Its star-shaped fruit is absolutely beautiful, and it naturally contains up to 90% anethole. It doesn’t grow in Quebec, but you can definitely add green anise and fennel to your 2026 garden.
Have you noticed? All these imposters contain anethole, whereas real licorice contains glycyrrhizin. Two completely different molecules that nevertheless have a similar taste—this is what we call convergence in biology!
Express course on convergence
Anethole and glycyrrhizin were not developed by plants to please us. On the contrary! These compounds are part of plants’ defensive arsenal against herbivores. Like the capsaicin in hot peppers or the bitter tannins in tea, these molecules are supposed to repel animals that might want to eat them, saying, “I don’t taste good, I might be poisonous, so go graze on grass instead!”
The vagaries of evolution are funny enough to sometimes allow more than one species to develop a certain trait. They are not related, but they rolled the same dice in the great mix of genetic mutations, and boom! We have several plants that develop the same defense. It’s a very common strategy: thousands of other plants have developed an unpleasant taste so they won’t get eaten. The funny thing is that some of these supposedly repulsive flavors have become… our favorites in cooking! Rosemary, thyme, basil, garlic, etc.!
However, not everyone detects flavors in the same way, and for some people with different “detectors,” these defenses retain their unpleasant taste.
If you HATE licorice, you are probably among the 20 to 25% of the population who have the TAS2R38 gene: your body reacts exactly as the plant intended, and the taste you detect is absolutely disgusting to you!
Can we learn to love?
I have a confession to make. For years, I thought I hated anything that tasted like licorice or anise. But here’s the thing—I don’t like not liking something in cooking. It’s like wasting an opportunity.
So I experimented. Not by forcing myself to eat black licorice candy, but by using anise differently. I started adding tiny amounts to my holiday gingerbread, mixed with cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg. And then something amazing happened: in this context, with other spices to accompany it, I discovered that I actually liked the flavor. Anise adds complexity, a warm and slightly sweet note that enhances the other spices. Suddenly, it no longer tasted like cough syrup—it was just one of many notes in a symphony of winter spices.
Does that mean I will now relish black candies? No. But I have opened a door. I’ve learned to appreciate this flavor in a context that suits me. It’s a bit like learning to love coffee—you don’t necessarily start with a strong black espresso. You start with a sweet latte, then gradually discover other ways to enjoy it.
So if you’re in the “I hate licorice” camp, know that it’s totally legitimate—your genetics may predispose you to this aversion. But if you’re curious to explore, know that it’s possible to learn to love anise and/or licorice!
Other botanical stars of Christmas
Our series on the mysterious flavors of the holiday season is coming to an end, but since we’re on the topic of gingerbread, I’d like to share some quick facts about many other Christmas spices. They all have fascinating histories, and although these flavors aren’t as mysterious as the others in the series, I wanted to tell you about them. If you feel like smelling your spices, go ahead! This is a multisensory Christmas article!
Cinnamon
Did you know that it comes from tree bark? The branches of the cinnamon tree are cut, the outer bark is scraped off, and then the inner bark is removed in long strips that curl naturally as they dry. In ancient Rome, a kilo of cinnamon was worth the equivalent of 50 months’ salary. Today, we sprinkle it on our lattes without even thinking about it!
Vanilla
Vanilla planifolia is an orchid that climbs like a tropical vine and produces brown pods containing precious sweet, fragrant seeds. In nature, only one species of Mexican bee can pollinate the vanilla flower, and a specific fungus is essential for germinating the seed. Today, on plantations in Madagascar and Tahiti, each flower is pollinated by hand, one by one, on the morning it blooms. No wonder vanilla is the second most expensive spice in the world after saffron!
Clove
Even before the clove flower blooms, the buds are picked and dried in the sun until they become hard and brown. If they were left to bloom, we would have pretty pink flowers… but no more spices! In the Middle Ages, cloves were worth their weight in gold—literally. In the 18th century, the Dutch had such a strict monopoly that they burned surplus crops to keep prices high. Are you familiar with the tradition of sticking cloves into an orange at Christmas?
Nutmeg
This small brown nut that flavors your eggnog comes from Myristica fragrans, a tree native to the Moluccas Islands in Indonesia. A few hundred years ago, a French adventurer named Pierre Poivre risked his life to smuggle nutmeg seedlings out of the monopoly that had been established. This tree actually gives us two spices. Nutmeg is the seed, and mace is the red lace-like covering that surrounds it!
Allspice
Its English name says it all: “allspice”! Because it combines the aromas of cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and pepper. These are the dried berries of Pimenta dioica, a rather capricious Caribbean tree: all attempts to grow it elsewhere have failed. Ninety percent of global production comes from Jamaica. And you know what? The leaves of the tree are used to smoke the famous Jamaican “jerk.” The whole tree is a spice!
I could go on like this for a long time (I love spices and their stories!), but you have gifts to unwrap, cousins to hug, and eggnog to enjoy.
One last word for this wonderful series
From cola and root beer to marshmallows, not to mention our beloved licorice, we have discovered together that nature offers us a treasure trove of flavors that we often consume without even realizing it.
Throughout this special day, I invite you to become aware of all the plants you will encounter: cinnamon in your coffee, cranberries in the sauce, mint in your candy canes, herbs in the stuffing, spiced tea in the afternoon… Every bite, every sip, is a direct link to nature. That’s part of the magic of the holiday season: all those little invisible connections that link us to the earth, even when it’s asleep.
Thank you for following this series. Merry Christmas, dear curious gardeners. May your day be sweet, warm, and filled with mysterious flavors!
I found Riddle School to be surprisingly immersive for such a small game. Once I started playing, I wanted to see how everything connected. The puzzles reward logical thinking and attention to detail. The tone is light, which makes it enjoyable even when you’re stuck for a moment. It’s a short experience, but a memorable one.
Have always loved licorice and knew that my candy was “safe” from being eaten by my siblings who did not like it. Wonderful article on the flavors of herbs.
Oh, I do enjoy licorice. Is there a North American species of licorice also?
Glycyrrhiza lepidota is the North American species, but it is not used for licorice.
Learned something new. Loved licorice from childhood. The real stuff, amazing taste. Real licorice taste wakes up the taste buds and is addictive. I always thought those other candies that pretended to be licorice sloppy seconds and not licorice. Sad there are those who genetically cannot enjoy it. Loved the spice trail plant info.
A wonderful Christmas morning read!
Wonderful article! I love your connection to nature!
a fascinating and fun article as always. Thank you!