Here's everything worth knowing about tarragon sprigs and how to pick them, what they are, how to store them, and what to use instead, plus 7 recipes to cook tonight.
A tarragon sprig is a whole stem of fresh tarragon (Artemisia dracunculus), the slender herb with smooth, pointed dark-green leaves and a flavor of anise crossed with a faint pepper.
When a recipe calls for sprigs rather than chopped leaves, it usually wants the whole stem to infuse a dish and then come out.
French cooks treat tarragon as one of the four classic fines herbes, alongside parsley, chervil, and chives, and it is the defining note in bearnaise. Its licorice-like aroma is strong and a little goes a long way.
Buy French tarragon for cooking. The Russian type is hardier in the garden but almost flavorless, so a sprig of it adds nothing.
A whole sprig is built for infusion. Lay it over fish, tuck it inside a chicken, or drop it into a sauce or poaching liquid, let it release its perfume during cooking, then lift the stem out before serving.
This is the herb's classic role with delicate proteins. A sprig poaches alongside the fish in Salmon Poached in Champagne with Capers & Tarragon, and it scents the pan in French Chicken Breast with Orange Tarragon Sauce.
It also perfumes the sauce of a Country Chicken Ragout and threads through a Pommes Anna with Tarragon.
Tarragon is the soul of bearnaise. Stems steep in the reduction of vinegar and wine, then the chopped leaves finish the warm butter sauce, giving it that unmistakable anise edge over a steak.
When you want the leaves in the dish rather than just their aroma, strip them from the stem and add them near the end, since long cooking dulls the fresh flavor. The stems themselves are too tough and woody to eat.
Tarragon has a natural home with chicken, eggs, fish, and shellfish, and with the things French sauces are built on: butter, cream, white wine, vinegar, shallots, and mustard. It also flatters tomatoes, mushrooms, asparagus, and beets.
The most common mistake is using too much. Tarragon's anise punch dominates fast, so start with less than you think and add more, rather than drowning a delicate dish in licorice.
The second is adding chopped leaves at the start of a long simmer. The volatile oils that carry the flavor cook off, leaving a faded, hay-like note, so stir fresh leaves in near the end and reserve the sprig for the slow infusing.
The third is reaching for dried tarragon expecting the same thing. Drying flattens it badly; dried tarragon is a pale shadow of the fresh sprig and goes musty within months.
There is no exact swap for tarragon's specific anise note. The closest is a pinch of fennel fronds or a little chervil, which shares the family of fines herbes and gives a softer, similar perfume.
For the licorice character alone, a small amount of fresh basil with a few crushed fennel or anise seeds can mimic the direction, though not the exact flavor. Use a light hand so it doesn't overpower.
If you only have dried tarragon, use about one teaspoon dried in place of a tablespoon of fresh chopped leaves, and add it earlier so it has time to rehydrate. It cannot replace a fresh sprig used for infusing.
Look for bright, deep-green sprigs with firm, unwilted leaves and a strong anise smell when you rub one. Skip any bunch that is yellowing or has gone slimy, both signs it is past its best.
Confirm it is French tarragon, since the flavorless Russian kind sometimes turns up at markets.
Store the sprigs like a small bouquet. Trim the stem ends, stand them in a glass with an inch of water, drape a loose bag over the top, and refrigerate; refreshed every couple of days they stay lively for about a week.
For a longer hold, the better routes are freezing and infusing. Freeze whole sprigs or chopped leaves in oil or water in an ice-cube tray, or steep sprigs in a bottle of white wine vinegar for a few weeks to make tarragon vinegar, the backbone of a quick bearnaise.
Drying is the weakest option for this herb, since tarragon loses most of its character once dried. If you grow it, preserving the summer glut in vinegar or the freezer keeps far more flavor than a jar of dried leaves.
There are 7 recipes that contain this ingredient.
Pommes Anna with tarragon: thin-sliced Yukon Gold potatoes layered with herb butter, baked tender, then broiled to a crisp golden top. An elegant French potato cake from a handful of ingredients.
Chicken, shrimp and bacon with in a flavorful stock with broccoli and tarragon.
Pan-seared lamb noisettes served on artichoke hearts with a tarragon-infused lamb jus and julienned root vegetables. An elegant French-inspired main course.
Salmon poached in champagne with capers, tarragon, and lemon juice. An elegant, 30-minute fish dinner with just 7 ingredients and a refined French technique.
Citrus fennel shrimp marinated overnight in lemon, lime, crushed fennel seeds, garlic, and olive oil, finished with fresh tarragon. A chilled make-ahead seafood dish.
Skin-on chicken breasts pan-seared French bistro style, finished in the oven, and drizzled with a quick orange-tarragon pan sauce mounted with cold butter. Ready in 30 minutes for a weeknight dinner that eats like restaurant food.
Seared chicken breasts in a rich cream sauce with baby artichokes, sun-dried tomatoes, pearl onions, bacon, pine nuts, and tarragon. Restaurant-quality dinner in just 20 minutes.